


cognitive dissonance

by gourmetpap3r



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author Projecting onto Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Deals With His Trauma, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, GET FUCKED MYRA, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Stanley Uris, Recovery, Repression, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Slight Internalized Homophobia, beverly marsh deserves the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:54:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 68,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21734101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gourmetpap3r/pseuds/gourmetpap3r
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak was 21 when he married Myra, and 25 when he realized he didn’t love her as much as he hoped he would.Living with Myra was like having the radio turned to static on full volume every single hour of the day, but at least he didn’t have to deal with crippling silence and the echoes of a life he wishes he had.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 58
Kudos: 257





	1. honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago

**Author's Note:**

> a story about eddies abuse and recovery from it. reddie endgame. hanbrough / stanpat / benverly on the sidelines. theyre all 26/27 and living in NYC. in this universe, eddie doesnt know any of the losers except for bill, whom he met in college. 
> 
> profread by the lovely eva (@honeycombpapen on twitter and @rosesburnedalive on ao3)
> 
> this chapters title graciously borrowed from hozier's- from eden!

1

Do you know when you’re looking at your own reflection and you stare at yourself for just a tad too long and suddenly you realize you’re an actual person. You notice your eyes, your nose, lips, that one mole that you’ve been wanting to get removed professionally for years but never took the initiative to get something done about. You notice you. 

You; pronounced: /ju:/. Pronoun. Definition: The person you’re stuck with for the rest of your life. This face is gonna stare back at you until the day you die. You’re never getting a break from yourself. It scares you. 

Edward 'Eddie' Kaspbrak is aimlessly staring at himself in his bathroom mirror when Myra’s voice echoes throughout their apartment. 

“I cheated on you.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, not quite listening. He looks down into the drain of the sink. 

“Okay.”

Eddie looks back up, looks into the mirror and catches Myra standing in the doorway to their bathroom.

“With a coworker, you met him at that Christmas party last year. The one with the tattoo. He served us the rosé”.

“Okay.”

“You’re not gonna say anything?” Myra rubs her temples and walks back into the living room. 

Myra, his wife, yes that’s right. Some might say that Eddie Kaspbrak married young. He would disagree, lots of people got married at 21, lots of people found the love of their life way before that; childhood sweethearts evolving into dating, then marriage, then kids, then old age.

But Eddie was 20 years old, with a dead dad, a recently deceased mom, and absolutely nothing to keep him grounded. He had a lot of time for self-reflection, to think about finding a hobby, to get to know himself. And for a few months, he did. But it was like tugging on that single loose thread of your sweater; you pull and pull and pull and soon enough you realize that what’s left is... nothing. 

Then he met Myra, and she made him feel safe, like everything clicked back into place. He couldn’t quite place the feeling, but for a moment in time he was content. Myra was caring, clean, always looking out for him. But kissing Myra felt awkward and uncomfortable. Holding her hand while walking down the street felt embarrassing and forced. They didn’t have sex a whole lot, much to Myra’s dismay, and the few times they did, it was only for Eddie to get a break from her whining. 

Everything about being with Myra felt wrong. Myra seemed to like _him_ , though, and he was sure he’d like her _eventually_. 

Eddie Kaspbrak was 21 when he married Myra, and 25 when he realized he didn’t love her as much as he hoped he would. 

Sometimes he wondered why he even married her. But then, on his particularly bad days, she would hold him like his mom used to, she would let him cry, and she would make him feel like everything was like it had always been. And he remembered why he married her, and he knew what was wrong about it.

Eddie Kaspbrak was 26 now, staring back at his reflection and feeling sedated. 

Sometimes he wanted to scream, to just ruin all of their nice and expensive things in a fit of rage; free himself from his mom, from Myra. The grand act of rebellion he saw in movies, on TV and read about in books. But it never came.

Maybe he was just overreacting? She obviously cared about him, wanted the best for him. Any other man would be lucky to have her.

He blinked and found himself face-to-face with his wife, still standing in their bathroom. 

“Well? Say something.”

Eddie blinked again.

“What? Sorry.”

“I cheated on you.”

“That’s okay.”

“And I’m moving out.”

They both pause. 

“Wait, like, right now?”

Myra leaves the bathroom again with a groan. Eddie follows her into the living room. “I’m moving in with my sister.” He stares at the decorations on their windowsills, on the books on their coffee table, on the pictures on the walls, he looks to Myra, who isn’t looking back.

“Seriously, Eddie, you’re not even mad?”

“No it’s- it’s fine. I’m not mad at you.”

Myra looks back at him and tilts her head, eyebrows raised. Eddie thinks to himself she might be communicating non-verbally, but he couldn’t make out what she wanted to tell him. 

Eddie is quiet as he sits down on the couch, and watches as Myra hurries around their home, grabbing different things, clothes, shampoo, toothbrush, perfumes and begins stuffing it into the suitcase they’d taken with them on their honeymoon. 

Myra walks to the foyer and eventually the front door opens and closes. 

“Myra…?” Eddie gets up from the couch and goes to check if she actually left. 

Eddie stands alone in the foyer. 

Eddie goes to bed as usual, leaves for work the next morning, not making much of his situation. 

It wasn’t the first time Myra had stormed off, she was bound to call him at any point throughout the day, and for the first time in their 5-year marriage, he turns his phone off of silent mode. 

Eddie sits in front of his desk at work.

Eddie sits in his car during NYC rush hour. 

Eddie stands in front of his front door. 

Eddie stands in Central Park, checking his phone for the fifth time in approximately 2 minutes. 

Eddie stands in a home too big and too cold, and eventually an entire day passes with no word from Myra. The only evidence of their marriage the ring still on his finger and vacation photos on the walls that he don’t look present in. 

He didn’t get why he was so upset after Myra's departure; it wasn’t like he loved her, he’d known that for some years now. But staying with her was easier than being alone, being alone felt so... exhausting. More so than living with Myra, anyway. Living with Myra was like having the radio turned to static on full volume every single hour of the day, but at least he didn’t have to deal with crippling silence and the echoes of a life he wishes he had.

He turns the TV on and doesn’t turn it off when he leaves for work, he lets it stay on throughout the night as well. Reruns of old sitcoms fill the LED screen, painting his face in flashing colors as he sleeps on the couch. 

He tries texting Bill when he wakes up the next morning, he doesn't get very far though, as his ringtone starts blaring in his ears. He checks who's calling and after one look, lets it finish ringing.

[ ONE (1) MISSED CALL FROM ‘Myra’ ]

He stares at his phone as several notifications appear on his screen, one by one, he reads them as they appear.

[ YOU HAVE (4) NEW MESSAGES FROM ‘Myra’ ]

[10:21AM] Myra: Pick up the phone Eddie

[10:23AM] Myra: You need to be mature about this

[10:27AM] Myra: You never think about how I feel

[10:30AM] Myra: If you won’t even talk to me we’re looking at divorce papers

  
  


For some reason, divorce papers seem more like a death declaration than anything else. Like getting a bullet sent by mail like in those TV-shows about the mob that Eddie watched as a kid. 

He feels his stomach twist and turn, a knot stuck in his throat, his heart feels like it’s both skipping every other beat and going a thousand miles an hour. 

Eddie instinctually moves to the bathroom and closes the door. He stands in front of the sink, watching his nose and mouth as he starts to control his breathing. 

He feels like he’s having a heart attack.

He opens the medicine cabinet, reaching for a container of aspirin. He struggles with the child proof cap for a moment, looks at the bright orange container and puts it back on the shelf. Deep down, he knows he’s not having a heart attack. 

He looks back up at his reflection. His heart is in his chest. 

_Come on._

_COME ON._

The TV is so loud, its blasting some advertisement for a fast food place, he’s heard it so many times in the past few days. He turns on the faucet and can barely stand the feeling of how cold the water feels as he splashes his face with it. 

_This is so stupid, you’re an adult man. Get it together, she isn’t even that mad at you. You have no reason to act like this._

He looks down at his hands, looks at the dirt under his fingernails, he’s shaking. He sits down on the cold tiled floor. 

  
  
  


Eddie wakes up on the floor of the apartment at 5PM that day, with pain in his neck and clutching a blanket.

He takes a shower right after and cleans the bathroom- not that it needed cleaning. When he’s done, it’s nearing 7PM, and he feels nauseous, which is when he remembers he hasn’t eaten the entire day. Moving to the kitchen, he looks in the cupboards and the fridge.

_Nothing, except milk_.

_It’s better than nothing_ , he figures. He reaches for the carton and glances at the expiration date; It was today.

He empties the carton of milk into the sink with a sigh and throws out the empty packaging. He reaches for his phone. 

He finally texts Bill.

[DRAFT] YOU: Hello Bill! How are you? Do you want to hang out?

[DRAFT] YOU: Hi Bill! Are you doing anything tonight?

[6:48PM] YOU: Hey Bill! Sorry if this is out of the blue but I was wondering if you would want to catch up over some late dinner? It’s been awhile since we last hung out. No worries if not!

He sighs as he presses send and stands, staring at his messaging app, waiting for a response. It comes 5 minutes later.

[6:53PM] Bill: Eddie! Hey man it’s been awhile, yeah! I’m free right now actually. I’m totally up for some dinner! 

Eddie doesn’t think he’s felt as relieved in his entire life as he does now.

[6:55PM] YOU: Oh neat! Do you have any places in mind, I don’t eat out a lot haha. 

[7:00PM] Bill: I have a place in mind! Meet me there in 45? 

[ ‘Bill’ HAS SENT YOU ONE (1) LOCATION ]

\---

Eddie decides to walk to the diner, thinking he could use the fresh air. It had been awhile since he’d seen Bill anyway- it would do him good to have social interaction from somewhere that wasn’t his job, not that he had any friends there anyway. A benefit of his job was that he mostly only interacted with people over the phone or in meetings- he ate lunch by his desk to be more efficient in how he spent his time, which meant bonding with coworkers during breaks wasn’t something he did. Not that he minded, he always wondered if people found him annoying, he hadn’t always felt as sedated as he did currently. When he was a kid he could barely shut up, always demanding attention to himself. 

He isn't like that anymore, though, he's an adult. He remembers looking in the mirror one day and suddenly, a grownup was staring back at him. Sometimes he wonders how he got here so quickly, 26 years old in the blink of an eye, in the same life-span that made those summers when he was 12 seem unending. The warm sun hugging his face when he rode his bike down the same cul-de-sac for the fifth time in a row. It was perfect. 

He had shared a major with Bill to begin with, they’d sat next to each other and though every single person in their lecture flocked to Bill with the same dedication that ornithologists study a rare bird with, Bill had decided to spend his time with Eddie. Bill was someone to admire and Eddie, to this day, wasn't sure what made him want to be his friend. But he was grateful nonetheless. 

Bill changed his major after a few months, “creative writing”, he said, informing Eddie that he had one shot at living his dream and that he would take it. He promised to keep in touch though, and Eddie knew that was probably just his way of being nice about cutting all contact with him without directly saying so. He was used to people letting any relation to him fade out into nothing. When someone said “keep in touch” it usually meant radio silence, and he had learned to live with it. He'd be fine. 

Which is why when Bill texted him around a week later asking to hang out, he was surprised to say the least. Several years had passed since then, and with Bills career taking off they didn’t see each other much. 

But perhaps part of growing up is learning that even if you don’t see your friends all the time, it doesn’t mean they don’t love you. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or something.

It also meant Bill gave Eddie the warmest hug he’d received in at least a year when they reunited in front of the diner. It lasted for maybe 20 seconds at most, but it felt like an eternity, and by God, Eddie had needed it.

“E-Eddie! What’s up?”

What was up? His entire world is definitely collapsing around him, he's going to end up alone and remain alone. Eddie knew himself well enough to know that was not going to end well. Should he be seeking marriage counseling? Should he be seeking therapy? He feels at the end of his metaphorical rope and despite his profession, he can't even begin to analyse the risks of him staying alone for much longer- not that he wants to anyway. The realization is terrifying and by God is it nice to just see a friendly face.

Of course, Eddie can’t say all that, so instead he gives Bill a gentle smile and goes with:

“Hi Bill.”

\---

The place Bill picked out is pretty standard, nothing too crazy, it's an American-style diner named ‘The Sunset/Sunrise Diner’ with laminated paper menus and seats that don't allow for Eddie to get completely comfortable. Not a lot of people seem to be present, two other booths are occupied and whatever staff is on shift are hanging around in the kitchen while waiting for something to do. It's perfect, in its own way. 

It isn't long until their waiter approached them, a tall, dark haired man around their age, a light stubble and tortoise glasses that took up half his face. He had barely managed to get a word in before Bill got up from his seat and gave the waiter a hug. 

“Richie! H-holy shit! W-what are you doing here?”

“Big Bill! Whoa! I could be asking you the same thing.”

Bill sits back down opposite of Eddie in their booth, he looks to Eddie, who still hasn’t said a word. “Eddie, This is Richie, we’re childhood friends from back home in Maine.” He speaks while gesturing to Richie, Eddie nods and holds out his hand. “Eddie Kaspbrak.” They shake hands, because they’re proper adults and that’s how you introduce yourself to people when you’re a proper adult. 

“Richie Tozier’s the name.” He taps his name-tag with his pen. “Gentlemen, what brings you to this fine establishment on this Saturday evening?” He says in the worst British accent Eddie had heard in a long time. 

Bill takes the lead again, Eddie doesn’t mind. “Me and Eddie here are old friends, we’re just catching up. God, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you man, how have you been?” Bill asks. 

“Well, I’m a comedian now. This is just a side-thing until things take off, y’know? It’s pretty normal actually, lots of people have two jobs when they’re working in the creative industry.” He explains, talking a thousand miles an hour. Richie sits down next to Eddie to be able to sit parallel to Bill as he talks. “You’re, uh, uh, working on that book still, right?” He asks, idly playing with his pen, scratching the side of his head with it and pointing it back and forth as he speaks. “What’s it called, The, uh.. Loft? Something or other.”

“Attic Room, Rich. But close.”

“Shit, that’s right.” He nods. “How’s that going?” 

It isn't long before a voice echoes from the kitchen. A slightly quiet, but assertive: “Richard!” 

Richie jerks up from his seat next to Eddie, he stands up, raises his left hand in either defeat or apology towards the kitchen and turns back to the two.

“I’m afraid I have to be your very professional server for the evening.” He lowers his voice and leans in a bit closer. “So! What do you boys want?”

Eddie reaches for the menu and opens it, not quite looking. 

“That’s the kids menu, Eds.” Richie states with a chuckle as he leans over the table, grabs the correct menu and hands it to Eddie, who is at a loss for words from pure embarrassment.

Bill orders a club sandwich while Eddie is still looking at the menu. He isn’t quite reading it though, just idly staring at nothing in particular. He’s pulled out of his trance when Richie speaks again, his obnoxious tone echoing through what feels like the entire diner.

“So! Eduardo, what’ll it be?”

“I don’t know, what’s the first thing on the menu?” He blinks at the nickname and looks up at Richie, accidentally making eye contact with him. God those glasses were thick. They pretty much hid his entire face.

“Number one?” He gently grabs the laminated paper sheet from Eddies hands and looks at it, pausing to read. “Signature burger, ‘sthat fine with you, gorgeous?” Richie speaks bluntly, and lets out a small chuckle a few seconds after processing what he had just said. “I’m— joking.” He pauses in between words, and the tips of his ears seem to have gotten a bit redder. 

Eddie furrows his brows and blinks, what a weird guy. “Sure.” 

“I’ll have that ready for you two, then. But let’s definitely catch up after I get off work. I’m thinking jägerbombs!” He gently slaps Bills shoulder before leaving for the kitchen. 

Bill replies with a “Sure, Rich.” that sounded more like a ‘let’s see’ rather than a direct confirmation. 

\---

  
  


Catching up with Bill was nice, he was a storyteller after all and that meant Eddie didn’t have to force himself to carry a conversation. Eddie asked him about the book Richie had mentioned and apparently it was a horror novel and he had been through 7 different drafts for endings- all of which his editor hated. He was hoping it would be his big break, and though he couldn’t tell him much of the story due to legal issues he assured Eddie he’d have a free copy at his home as soon as it was released. He told stories about he and Richie’s childhood, about the time his hamster escaped its cage and they, in a panic, skipped school to stay home and find it, about their time in high school, the first time they went to a party and Bills first hangover.

Eddie smiled and listened attentively. 

“Wh-What about your job? Everything like normal?” Bill eventually asks.

“Yeah, everythings the same. Same old 9 to 5.” He shrugs as he speaks.

“H-how’s Myra anyway?” 

The question feels like ten knives stabbing at the back of his neck. “Uh, she’s fine, she’s moved in with her sister for some time.”

Bill blinks, obviously knowing that probably wasn’t a good sign. “Oh shit...H-how come?”

“It’s probably nothing, just another one of her… freakouts, I think. She’s coming back home anytime. It’s gonna be fine.” Eddie says, like a liar. 

“Damn. Well, I won’t say I’m surprised but, I hope it works out.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

Bill offers Eddie a comforting smile.

\---

The two ended up staying until closing, just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Bill was always so sure of himself, sometimes Eddie wondered why he chose to be his friend. If he could change one thing about himself, he would want to make himself as brave as Bill was. Bill was diving head first into his dream of becoming a writer, risking it all and still not seeming stressed at all. He wished he could live like that. 

They waited for Richie outside the front of the diner, standing outside in the semi-cold September air. Soon enough Richie appeared from the back entrance, with a cigarette already lit and a jacket that looked too thin for the weather.

“So are you boys up for a night out on the town? Let’s get to know each other properly without my bitch of a boss looming over my shoulder, huh?” He pulled the two into a half-hug and took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke being carried by the wind and hitting Eddie directly in the face. Bill looks to Eddie and offers him a non-verbal ‘you’re free to go if you don’t want to’ with a nod and a soft smile. 

Eddie doesn't really _want_ to spend a night out with Bill and his loud and charismatic friend. Bars and clubs are filled with germs, people throwing up left and right, people doing... God knows what in the bathrooms. But, on the other hand, it might be fun, and maybe the hangover he’d suffer the next morning would be worth it. As little as he wanted to admit it, Richie does seem like a guy that could lift your spirits. 

Myra would hate him going to a bar this spontaneously, though. 

“Sorry, not today.”

“Suit yourself then.” Richie takes one last drag before flicking his cigarette bud on the ground and ruffles Eddies hair right after. Eddie groans, mentally reminding himself to shower when he gets home. 

“Do you have any idea how long that’ll stay there?” Eddie asks, pointing to the bud Richie had just thrown onto the pavement.

“What?” Richie looks like someone just asked him to find the square root of pi. 

“That cigarette, you do know it takes 10 years for a cigarette filter to decompose, right? Do you have any idea how harmful that is? There’s literally a public ashtray 30 feet ahead.” He points.

“Cute.” Richie bends over and picks up the cigarette bud and walks over to the previously mentioned ashtray where he dumps it and jokingly bows at Eddie after he rejoins the two. 

“Do you want me to clap for common human decency?” His words are harsh and he has no idea why, normally he isn't this assertive when it came to his opinions. Something about Richie just makes him that way, he supposes.

  
“Something like that, yes.”

  
  
  


Bill and Eddie say their goodbyes, leaving each other with a friendly hug. Eddie offers Richie a wave before he walks back home, hands in his pockets. 

  
  


Eddie showers as the first thing he does when he gets home, he turns on the hot water and lets himself stand under it for at least 20 minutes before he even begins grabbing his shampoo. He feels exhausted, tired and disgusting and he washes his hair two times before he feels satisfied and finally exits the shower. It’s midnight and Eddie sleeps on the couch yet again, the TV still on.

\---

Eddie stands in pure darkness. He reaches for a lightswitch, something, anything but his hands are covered in... something, blood, pus, dirt; he can’t tell. And all of a sudden he’s a kid again, he’s in his room. His mother is there, she says something he can’t make out properly and he feels dirty. He can’t breathe. He feels weak. A clock is ticking in his room. Too loud, Too fast. Is he dead? 

Eddie Kaspbrak has a nightmare that wakes him up at 2AM. He doesn’t even know why he was scared, but his hands are shaking and he’s covered in sweat. He lays on his couch quietly, dry swallowing before sitting up and taking a moment to collect himself. He walks to the kitchen and gets a glass of water. He downs it in one go and goes back to the couch, laying down in an attempt to fall back asleep. But he’s still awake an hour later, and at 4AM, too. Was this going to be his life from now on? 

Finally, he reaches for his phone, he isn't sure what he wants to use it for, but in a moment of sheer panic he calls Myra. He isn’t thinking, and stays in the call after the automated voicemail message has played. 

“I’ve been thinking, we should go on a cruise… or holiday or something. Spend some time together, wouldn’t that be fun? It’d be like the old days.” He doesn’t know why he’s saying this. “We could get new clothes, or new furniture. What do you think?” He doesn’t want to do either of those. “Please call me back.” He goes quiet for a full minute, thinking. “I love you.” He says, but feels like he’s on autopilot. 

He regrets leaving the voicemail even before hanging up. He puts down his phone screen-down on the coffee table and rests his head in his hands, tears building up in his eyes but he doesn’t let himself cry.

It’s around 2 minutes later when his phone buzzes once.

Then twice.

He doesn’t dare check it. 

It’s 4:17AM and Eddie Kaspbrak is pacing around his living room, pep-talking himself like a teenager before taking a big exam.

“Come on.. You can do it. Come on, Eddie. It’s just two texts, it’s gonna be fine.” He doesn’t quite believe himself.

It’s 4:31AM and Eddie Kaspbrak is checking his phone.

[YOU HAVE (2) NEW MESSAGES FROM ‘Bill’ ]

[4:03AM] Bill: heyy eddie, just thought i’d let u kno that im home now i hope ur doing ok!! you can always talk to me if u need someone but i get it if its hard to askfor helpp!

[4:04AM] Bill: it was super fun catching up w/ you! lets do it again soon, i lvoe you man

  
  


Eddie smiles. 

  
  
  


The following day, for whatever reason, Eddie Kaspbrak walks back into the Sunset/Sunrise diner. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to cook, but he only half believes that.

  
  


2

  
  
  


Richie Tozier is standing in the kitchen of the Sunset/Sunrise diner- his workplace of the last year and a half. Finding one's footing as a stand-up comedian was never easy, but doing it in New York City was practically like shooting yourself _in_ the foot and THEN trying to find it. It was hard to say the least and Richie would be lying if he didn’t say he was at least a little ashamed he’d never performed a set at something that wasn’t a local bar where he already knew the owners. 

But, c’est la vie. 

Many people worked 12 hour shifts everyday of the week, some even more than that, for shittier pay than Richie was getting. And hey— how he was making ends meet with a NYC rent and a waiters salary, he honestly doesn’t know. But he wasn’t gonna complain about that. Not for a second. 

He wasn’t gonna lie, seeing Bill the previous day had kind of been both an improvement to his mental health and a blow to his self esteem.

He knew it isn't Bills fault, but seeing his friends become successful when he was barely scratching the surface of his own dream really hurt. He knows he's horrible for having that thought, and there definitely isn't anyone to blame but himself for his lack of success so far.

Sometimes, he thinks his parents might have been right about his dream. It isn't like Richie doesn't have a good head on his shoulders; he excelled at almost everything in school throughout his entire life. It would be the wiser decision to stick with something scholarly for his job, a more financially secure decision. But he wants to perform, wants to make people laugh and wants people to know who he is. 

His parents hadn’t entirely approved when he'd told them that. It wasn’t like they had been abusive towards him or anything like it, but sometimes he feels like they don't understand a single word he says, even if he were to talk for hours on end. When he was a child, he sometimes felt like screaming at them, that hasn't changed all that much throughout the years.

Richie isn't a person that was good at handling his emotions; he knew that already. He has either too many or not enough of them. 

He's sure he has something currently undiagnosed, but at 26 he figures it's way too late to figure that shit out. So he manages, and he figures that was probably the best way to describe himself: managing. 

  
  


Richie Tozier lives in a two-bedroom apartment, sharing it with his best friend of 17 years, Stanley Uris. 

The two didn’t see each other a lot nowadays, Stan having landed a pretty good position as an accountant in a big firm, that Richie for the love of God just could never remember the name of. Richie works odd hours, and after he gets off work he usually goes straight to a club and parties it up with whoever wants to, or goes straight home to bed, waking up still tired and getting through the rest of the day with the help of five-hour energies until he finishes work and does it all over again.

But sometimes Stan is in the living room when Richie has just come home from work. He’d be watching a movie and Richie would crawl into the couch, too, and they’d enjoy each others quiet company. Sometimes Richie looks at Stan and wondered how he could be so lucky.

  
  
  


Richie Tozier blinks as Eddie enters his workplace for the second day in a row, he watches as the smaller man sits in the same booth as yesterday and he quickly approaches the booth.

“Just couldn’t get enough of me, could you?” 

Eddie looks up at Richie, and a strange expression washes over his face as he realizes Richie’s going to be his waiter again. 

“That’s not it.”

Richie waits for Eddie to elaborate. He doesn’t.

He notices the ring hugging Eddies finger, and speaks without thinking beforehand. “You’re married?” He doesn’t know why he’s disappointed.

“Yeah?”

“Are they hot?” _Why the fuck did he say that._

“Fuck you.” 

Richie laughs in order to relieve the tension, and thankfully Eddie lets out a small chuckle, too.

“So, what’ll it be today? Wait! Let me guess, yesterday you wanted a number one, so today you’ll want a number two.”

“That wasn’t my intention at all, actually. I wasn’t planning to go chronologically th-”

“Well, Eddie Spaghetti, a number two it is.”

Eddie huffs and shakes his head before finally speaking again. “Sure.”

\---

On the third day, Richie decides to be brave and write his number on a napkin the second he sees Eddie enter. Surely there is some reason he keeps coming back, and Richie doubts it's for the food. The mystery of Eddie Kaspbrak is the most exciting thing to happen to him for at least 6 months and he’ll be damned if he's gonna let this opportunity go to waste.

He stares at the napkin for a good while.

He crumbles up the napkin and stuffs it in the pocket of his jeans and walks out into the main part of the diner with a smile on his face.

“So! I get the pleasure of seeing your face once again, Eds.” 

“Where did that nickname even come from?” 

“Don’t know. Do you like it?” He asks, hopefully.

“No.” 

_\---_

  
  


On the fourth day, Richie finally asks the question:

“Why do you keep coming back here anyway?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Well, that’s boring.” Richie nods, and for once in his life doesn’t know what to say after that. Eddie is the one to break the silence.

“I’m going through a divorce, I think.”

Holy shit, Richie didn’t know what he was expecting but it sure as hell was not that.

“You think?” Richie can’t help but chuckle. “How can you not be sure of something like that? Either you’re going through a divorce or you’re not.. There’s not like.. a grey zone for shit like that.”  
  


Eddie just stares at him, rubs his temples and mumbles a quiet: “I don’t know why I thought you’d care.” He pauses, and looks down. “Just get me whatever is number three.”

“Sure thing, Eddie.” Richie knows he should apologize- it would arguably be the best move for him to make right now. He doesn’t. 

  
  


\--

As Eddie asks for the check, Richie insists it’s no issue: “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.” 

“I don’t need your pity.” Eddie snaps and digs through his wallet and leaves a 20 dollar bill on the counter. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.” He speaks under his breath, shrugs on his red track jacket and leaves promptly after.

Richie takes his 15 minute break and goes outside to smoke right after Eddie leaves . 

He feels like screaming.

\---

3

The contact Eddie has had with Myra for the last 5 days has been severely limited. He regrets leaving the voicemail the other day, but some part of him almost wants her to call him back, if only to yell at him, to call him an idiot, useless and make him feel utterly horrible. 

Some part of him wants Myra to just mail the divorce papers to their address, set up a meeting with a divorce attorney and get it over with.

The biggest part of him just wants everything to go back to normal. 

The TV is turned off by now and Eddie is on the couch trying to sleep at 9PM, laying in silence and trying not to think too hard about his situation. 

He hadn’t eaten since lunch at work and he figures he’ll be fine until breakfast at work. He could make that work. 

He thinks back to Myra’s endless lectures.

He thinks back to his mother’s endless lectures.

Was this his grand act of rebellion? Letting himself starve when she was always insistent on getting nutritious meals 3 times a day. If so, it was a pretty shitty way to rebel- wasn’t anything like the big speeches people gave in movies at all. Eddie almost felt sorry for himself. 

  
  


He thinks back to the diner the previous day.

_“Why do you keep coming back here anyway?”_

_“I don’t know.” He had answered, but he knew well enough._

  
  


Something about Richie Tozier pisses him off, but something about him also... intrigues him. He wishes he could be more like him, overly confident, not caring what other people thought about him, and able to speak his mind. 

He wonders if Richie Tozier was at work right now. 

He wonders if he was expecting him to visit for a late dinner.

He wonders why he invited him out for drinks the other day.

He doesn’t know why, but Eddie swallows his pride and heads down to the diner for the 5th day in a row. 

  
  


It’s around 9:30PM when Eddie enters Sunset/Sunrise, he scans the diner, there’s a large group of teenagers taking up two booths, they’re making a lot of noise, laughing and generally seem to be having fun. He envies them. 

He looks to the cash register where an extremely tired Richie, that hasn’t spotted him yet, is on his phone. He walks up to him and he swears Richie almost drops his phone in pure shock. Eddie tries not to laugh.

“Don’t say a word.” Richie speaks as he places his phone back in his pocket. 

“I’m quiet.” He reassures, hands raised in defeat. 

“So, what can I get ya, Eddie? Number five?” He asks, Eddie nods.

“You’re so weird.” Richie comments as he punches his order in.

“Fuck you, _you’re_ weird.” Eddie responds bluntly. He doesn’t quite mean it. 

  
  


\--

Richie has 5 minutes left of his shift and Eddie is still in the diner, he finished eating a while ago and by now he’s just sitting, looking out at the street as people pass by. 

Richie wonders who he’s waiting for. 

  
  


Eddie jumps in his seat when Richie sits across from him in the booth. 

“Jesus christ! You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

“Are you just not gonna go home tonight, Edster?”

“Oh you’re eager to get me to leave huh?” 

“That’s not what I said. Why are you hanging back? Who are you waiting for?”

Eddie blinks. “I’m not waiting for anyone.” His tone is accusatory. 

“Alright then, I just finished my shift so I’m heading out then, ciao Eduardo.” Richie speaks as he gets up from the seat, he takes two steps before Eddie speaks again.

“Where are you heading to?” 

“Why? You wanna tag along?”

Eddie groans and puts on his jacket. “Let’s just go drinking, asshole.” 

“On a Thursday? 

“Shut up.” Eddie punches him on the shoulder (gently), Richie laughs. 

  
  


\---

Eddie Kaspbraks first clubbing experience is at 26 years old, on a Thursday, and with a person he’s known for less than a week. It’s loud, disgusting and generally uncomfortable. 

But something about it is also pretty fun. It’s a relatively small club, and it even has proper booth seating away from the dance floor so Eddie gets to sit in a corner and be as comfortable as he can get in a place like that. 

He wonders why he decided to go out with Richie Tozier of all people.

Then it hit him that _this_ was was probably his act of rebellion. 

He doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or surprised. Maybe both.

  
  


Richie is talking about something that Eddie can’t quite make out due to the music being played on an almost ungodly volume. Eddie is too embarrassed to ask “what?” for the fourth time, so he just nods and hopes for the best. Then Richie leaves their table and Eddie is confused to say the least, he looks after the other in the crowd of 21 year olds on the dancefloor and around the bar, watches as he walks up to the bar and holds up two fingers. He doesn't have any idea what Richie is saying to the bartender.

Eddie takes his phone out of his pocket, checks the time three times in a row and then it runs out of battery. Great. He wonders if he should just head home.

He looks up as Richie is approaching their table, hands full of what looks like shot glasses. 

“What are those?” Eddie asks and Richie almost looks offended. “They’re jägerbombs, Eddie. Have you never tried them before?” 

Eddies silence speaks volumes. 

Richie elaborates: “Well, they’re basically Jägermeister and redbull combined in a shot.”

“You’re not supposed to mix energy drinks and alcohol. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is to your body? You’re literally bound to have a heart attack if you put shit like that in your body.” 

Richie shrugs and grins. “I’m here for a good time, not a long time.” He raises his eyebrows, holds up the shot glass and downs it in one go. 

Eddie sighs, smiles to himself and, after a moment of hesitation, does the same.

\--

It’s 1AM when Richie pulls out a pack of Marlboro Reds and asks Eddie if he has a lighter. 

He doesn’t. Richie asks the table behind them if any of them have one, they don’t either. 

Richie ends up using the candle on the table they’re sitting at to light his cigarette and Eddie thinks that he looks like something out of a bad oscar-bait movie.

It’s 2AM when Richie begins telling stories from his childhood. 2:05AM when Eddie finds out Richie had dyed his hair 7 different colors through his life. 2:10AM when he finds out Richie only had 3 friends as a kid. 2:13AM when he finds out he started smoking at age 12. 2:20AM when he finds out Richie shares an apartment with his best friend, Stan, and that they’ve been friends since they were 9 years old. 

They keep drinking, and soon enough Eddie tells Richie about his own childhood, about the parts he wants to share, anyway. He doesn’t tell him about the time he spent an entire summer inside because he broke his arm. Doesn’t tell him about all the times he ate alone at lunch and certainly not about the time he found out his mom had been giving been placebos, and then proceeded to continue living his life like he didn’t know.

It’s 3:39AM when Eddie finds out Richie’s hands are usually cold and clammy. He finds this out because Richie is grabbing his hand, insisting that they both dance. Eddie is almost drunk enough to agree. He excuses himself to the bathroom and Richie lets him know he’ll save him a spot on the dancefloor. 

-

Eddie is alone in the men's bathroom and he’s staring at his reflection, as he’s done many times in the past week. 

_What are you doing here Eddie?_

He washes his hands.

_What do you think you’ll find in him?_

He washes them again.

_This is a stupid idea. Go home. You’re safe at home._

Eddie doesn’t know what ‘safe’ means. 

-

Eddie finds Richie while he’s dancing horribly with someone whose face he doesn’t bother looking at.

“I’m going home.”

“What?”

“I’m leaving.” Eddie repeats and heads towards their booth to grab his coat, Richie drags himself away from the dancefloor and follows after him. 

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong I’m just heading home.” 

“If you need to puke I’ll be happy to hold your fanny pack-”

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t even fucking know you.”

Richie keeps following after Eddie and soon enough the two are standing on the streets of New York, they’re obviously attracting attention

“I don’t know what’s up with you, Eds.” 

“Don’t fucking call me Eds!” Eddie snaps. “I hate your stupid nicknames.” 

Richie is quiet. 

“Jesus Christ, Richie.” He pauses, rubbing his temples. “I’m going home now.”

Eddie watches as the other blinks, reaches in his pocket and hands Eddie a crumpled up napkin, he doesn’t glance at it. “At least text me when you get home.” 

Eddie takes it. 

“If it’ll make you sleep better at night.” 

“It will.”

He leaves without a word. 

\--

Eddie is home 25 minutes after that, he could’ve been home in 5 if he’d taken the subway but he’s not taking any risks with the sheer amount of germs on a subway at 4:30AM. He also thinks it might be him stalling for time, because he doesn’t really want to be home. He wants to _go_ home, but he doesn’t really want to _be_ there. It was a feeling he had almost every time he left the house, it’d gotten better over the years but sometimes it flared up and he felt like a child again.

As a kid, whenever the world got too much for him, he would just lie down. Sometimes he’d look at the sky, sometimes stars, but most of the time it would be his bedroom ceiling. He knew the pattern of the glow-in-the-dark stars he had stuck to his ceiling by heart now. 

Sometimes he would lie down for a minute, other times he would lie for hours on end, waiting for the feeling to pass. Sometimes it didn’t pass at all and he would still get up anyway. 

He enters his home with no grace, and hurries towards the couch so quickly that he doesn’t notice the extra pair of womens shoes in the foyer.

The second his body hits the couch he breaks into a full-on sob. He doesn’t even know why.

Soon enough a figure emerges from the bedroom. “Eddie-bear?”

Eddie sits up on the couch. He doesn’t say a word.

“Oh Eddie, I’ve been so worried about you. Where have you been?”

He remains quiet. He’s shaking with 10 years of pent-up energy.

“Have you been drinking? Oh, Eddie-bear. Come here.”

And she embraces him, holds him like she always does. It feels familiar.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

  
  
  


He doesn’t text Richie.

  
  


4

Richie is careful not to wake up Stan when he enters the apartment, not only because he doesn’t wanna hear Stans rants about how going out on weekdays is stupid, but also because he simply doesn’t want to wake up his friend when he knows he has work in the morning. Sometimes people doubted it, but Richie was actually a genuinely good friend at times.

Richie moves to his bedroom and is awake much longer than he’d like to admit, eagerly waiting for a text informing him that Eddie had made it home alright. After an hour of waiting, it still hasn’t arrived and Richie makes a half-drunk, half sleep-deprived decision to text Bill, praying the author is up.

[5:52AM] YOU: heyyy billlll do you have eddies number perhaps?

Richie distracts himself with games on his phone until he finally gets a response several hours later. His worry for the smaller man hasn't ceased though, and he hurries to check his texts when Bill does respond. 

[ YOU HAVE ONE (1) NEW MESSAGE FROM ‘big Bill’ ]

[8:57AM] big Bill: I’m not even gonna question why you were awake at 5 in the morning... I do have his number, why do you need it?

[8:59AM] YOU: its a long story and i promise ill tell you, i just need to get a hold of him right now

[9:03AM] big Bill: ...Don’t make me regret this. 

[ ‘big Bill’ HAS SENT YOU ONE (1) NEW CONTACT ]

[9:05AM] YOU: I LOVE YOUUU THANKS BILL <3 MWAH

He stares at his phone for a good minute, debating what to do next, he honestly hadn’t thought he’d actually get his number. 

[DRAFT] YOU: hey eddie did you get home alright?

No, too formal. 

[9:12AM] YOU: heyyyy eddie did you get home alright?

[9:14AM] YOU: this is richie btw. Bill gave me ur number

[ ‘Eddie’ IS TYPING ]

[ ‘Eddie’ IS TYPING ]

[ ‘Eddie’ IS TYPING ]

[ ✓ read 9:20AM ]

_Fuck._

Richie doesn't even know why he was so strangely drawn to Eddie, there is just something about him that felt like home, like sitting in front of the fireplace after coming inside from rain, like testing out a new pack of brand new markers, like coming home from a week-long field trip and finally getting to eat your moms homecooked meals again.

Even though Eddie seems to hate his guts, there is always enough of a sparkle in his eyes that Richie was sure he didn’t _actually_ hate him. He doesn’t want to assume how the other feels about him, but Richie isn’t stupid nor blind. They had fun earlier, at least it seemed like they did, this could become a friendship and Richie didn’t have many of those. 

He really can’t be sure, though. He did seem genuinely pissed off when they parted ways a few hours earlier and he doesn’t want to come off too strong by continuing to contact him if Eddie is actually mad. 

He is worried, though. 

He gets ready to text again when his phone starts ringing.

[‘Eddie’ IS CALLING ]

He picks up and there’s silence for a good amount of time.

“Eddie? You there?”

“Yeah, hold on, uh-” There’s a sound of shuffling around on the other end of the line. 

“Are you home?” 

“Yeah sorry, I’m here now. I’m home.” Richie can’t help but notice that his voice sounds unsure.

“Well, that was why I texted you, but, uh, do you need to talk, buddy?” He offers.

“No it’s- it’s fine. I’m fine. I just- That was a mistake, It was wrong and I’m sorry for lashing out at you, I just get like this sometimes and I don’t know what’s wrong with me-”

“Hold on, Eddie, just breathe for a moment. Did something happen?” 

Eddie does take a few breaths as he looks for the right words.

“No, it’s- going out drinking- it was stupid. It was wrong of me and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Wait. What was wrong about it? You’re a grown ass man, you’re allowed to go out and have a few drinks.”

Silence.

“You do know that you’re allowed to do that, right?”

Silence again.

“Hello..? Eddie, are you there?” 

“Sorry, I’m- yeah, yeah you’re right.”

“Jesus, Eds..”

Eddie doesn’t respond.

“Listen, Eddie I know we don’t know each other that well but, if you need help with anything you can say what it is. Even just Bill, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help with whatever you’re going through.”

“I’m not going through anything. I don’t want to bother Bill with my bullshit-” He stops talking to collect his thoughts. “I just- can you talk?”

“..Okay, well, I have to work in uh...” He pauses to think. “a couple hours, but do you wanna stay on the line until then?” He offers. 

“Yeah- Yeah I’d like that.” His voice sounds unsure and fragile, like he’s trying not to be too loud.

“What to say...” Richie paces around the living room as he speaks. “Should I tell you about the time Bills hamster escaped its cage and we skipped school to find it?”

“Bill already told me that one.”

“Ah I see- let me think then.”

“You can tell it anyway, though. I- I don’t mind hearing it twice.”

“Alright then.” Richie says in a horrible australian accent. Eddie chuckles on the other end.

  
  


When Stan wakes up and enter the living room, he raises a brow at his roommate being on the phone _that_ early in the morning, but doesn't comment on it when he sees how much Richie was enjoying talking to whoever was on the other end of the line. He decides to make his best friend breakfast, not because he has to, but because he wants to and finally heads out to work. 

The two hang up when Richie has to leave the apartment to go to work. Eddie thanks him for the many, sometimes embarrassing, stories and Richie responds that it wasn’t a problem. 

  
  


4.5

In the Kaspbrak household, Eddie had just ended a several hour long phone call and he is exhausted to say the least, Myra had headed to work before the phonecall had started, leaving Eddie alone in the home. 

For once the silence of an empty home seems comforting.

He unlocks his phone and dials Bill.

It takes a few moments before he picks up.

“Eddie! Sorry man, I just s-stepped out of the shower, how are you?”

“Uh.. It’s- If you’re not doing anything today could I come over? Myra came home last night and I- I think- I think I shouldn’t be home right now.”

  
  
  


An hour later Eddie finds himself in front of Bill’s apartment complex, he blinks, takes a breath and presses the buzzer labeled _‘W. Denbrough’._

He doesn’t feel ready.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading so far! im on twitter @dansk_javlen ! i try my best to make sure they work, but if the images aren't loading, they can be found under their respective chapter on twitter: 
> 
> https://twitter.com/dansk_javlen/status/1211352376751378432
> 
> did you like this? did you hate it? let me know!!


	2. you're someone i have always known. and i dont even know you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love stanley. forgot to mention this first chapter but: stanley, bill and bev are all nonbinary and bi.
> 
> this chapter title is brought to you by hadestown - all ive ever known

1

Bills apartment is an organised mess, to say the least. Papers are scattered on every surface and several cups left around the place, the floor is littered with piles of books, and Bill moves around it like he knows exactly where to step and where not to step. Screamin Jay Hawkins is playing on a speaker and Bill turns it off as he walks past it. 

“Sorry I ha-haven’t had time to clean up.”

“You’re good, don’t worry.” Eddie reassures.

“Do you want tea, or co-co-coffee? Milk?” Bill offers.

“No, it’s fine, thanks.” He doesn’t want to impose. “Can I..?” He gestures to the couch. 

“Of course, of course!” The two eventually settle on the couch, there’s a tense silence in the air until Bill breaks it. 

“So, R-Richie texted me yesterday, he seemed p-pretty worried about you. Did he contact you?”

_You’re being a bother._

“Uh, yeah we talked on the phone for a bit. Myra she- she came home yesterday and- it isn’t the first time she’s freaked out and left our place to live with her sister, but for some reason this time it felt different and when I woke up next to her it felt wrong-” He stops to catch his breath.

_Shut up, you’re talking too much._

Bill is still listening though, so he keeps talking.

“And- And I just don’t know what to do because she’s- she’s my wife and for some reason every time I kiss her it just feels like im kissing my mom and I hate it. It’s not like she beats me or yells or anything so I don’t know why I’m like this because I have no reason to like... hate her, right?”

Eddie barely registers what he’s saying.

“And I don’t know what’s changed now because normally I just suck it up and move on with my day, but I just feel like I can’t take it anymore. She threatened to divorce me the other day, and some part of me was okay with it, and that scares me because everytime I’m not around her, I feel like I have no control over what I get to do, but whenever I _am_ around her I feel like im drowning and I-” He stops talking. “I’m sorry.” He takes a moment to catch his breath.

“Jesus, Eddie.. I-.. I’m really happy you’re saying this.” Bill looks like he’s at a complete loss for words. Eddie feels bad, directing his gaze downwards and staring at his hands, clutching each other tightly. 

“I- I don’t know what to say. Am I the first per-p-person you’ve told this to?” Bill asks.

“Yeah.” 

Bill blinks and hesitates for a moment before pulling Eddie into a hug, which he accepts. It feels new. The hug lasts around 30 seconds before the two pull away again, Bill sending Eddie a comforting glance. 

Eddie continues talking.

  
“I just- I don’t know what next step to take I- I feel so. Shitty all the time and-” He stops himself mid-sentence. “I’m sorry, it’s a lot, I know.” He laughs awkwardly to hide how much he wants to leave the apartment, run into the street and keep running until he doesn’t know where he is.

“Hey hey hey hey, don’t worry at all.” Bill reassures. “You sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

_He does want water._

“No, I’m fine- I’m sorry I should go.” Eddie gets up from the couch and gets ready to leave. Bill looks after him. 

“You’re not being a bother, Eddie. I hope you know that.” He reassures again, Eddie stands still and doesn’t dare look in Bills general direction. He eventually sits down on the couch again.

“I.. I don’t know I don’t want to talk about it right now, I think.” It’s all becoming too much for him to realise, let alone talk about.

“That’s okay.” Bill nods confidently. “Do you w-want to talk about something else?”

“Sure Bill. Thank you.” Even though his words are sincere, Eddie has to force a smile. He doesn’t wanna worry Bill, not in a million years. “Uh, tell me about your book.” He suggests.

Bill can’t tell him much due to legal reasons, but he does tell Eddie about the time he spent doing research in a public library, about his meeting with a librarian. He had helped him out with finding a very specific book, and ordering it home because no other library in the state had it in stock. He’d spent a good amount of time there, not because he needed to do more research and they’d gone on a date a couple of weeks back.

“Wow, Bill, that’s great, I’m really happy for you man.” 

It’s at that moment Eddies phone starts to ring.

“Is it..?” Bill asks

“Yeah. I should.. I should go home.”

“You don’t have to g-go back h-home.” 

  
“No I.. I _like_ being home, it just...” 

“M-makes you feel terrible about yourself?”

“Something like that.”

“You do k-know you can c-crash here if you need to, right?”

“I know. Thank you, Bill. But I really should be going home.” 

Bill hesitates but doesn’t say anything, instead he offers Eddie a hug that he gladly accepts. 

Eddie hesitates before letting go. 

\--

  
  


The moment Eddie steps into his home it’s like his mind goes blank, he’s running on autopilot. 

Myra asks him why he wasn’t home earlier and he lies, saying he clocked in late to work and had gotten stuck in traffic. 

“You know it’s just because I worry about you, right?” 

“Yeah, I know. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, honey.” 

They’re watching TV together later that evening, and all of a sudden, Eddie doesn’t feel safe anymore. It’s a creeping sensation, like a cold hand against his back, but it’s there. It’s not like Myra has a particularly threatening aura or anything.. But the comfort he used to feel from being around her seemed weaker- like a light bulb right before it’s about to go out. 

He assumes the feeling will pass, though. He got to rant to Bill earlier anyway, so now he’d doesn’t have any feelings left unsaid… right? 

Maybe it’s bad now, but it might get better. He couldn’t just leave without a word, it’s not right. He owed Myra to at least try.

“Should we look into that cruise, Eddie?” Myra eventually asks. “I wanna go to Italy. So romantic.” 

“Cruise?” He blinks. 

“Yeah, like you said over the phone, we should go on holiday together, just you and i.”

“Ah- That sounds great.. Sure.” _He absolutely, positively does not want to do that._

Even the scent of Myra’s perfume is too much for him to bear at this point. 

“I think I’m gonna go to bed, I’m feeling tired.” He says, but his tone makes it sound like he’s asking permission. 

“Sure honey. That’s a good idea, you need to be up early tomorrow.”

He gets up from the couch and is almost in their bedroom when Myra speaks again.

“Eddie-bear?”

_Shit._

He knows what she wants.

He walks back to her and hesitates for a moment. 

_Eddie feels stupid, why is he reacting this strongly to such an insignificant thing? It’s not a big deal, Myra isn’t even being rude. Of course you have to kiss your wife goodnight. She’s your fucking wife, damnit!_

He finally kisses her cheek, and hurries into their bedroom right after.

_Why are you like this, Eddie? Myra takes care of you, that’s what you need, she’s doing what’s best for you._

  
He sits down on the bed, burying his face in his hands. His hands are shaking. 

  
  


2

“Who was that on the phone this morning?” Stan eventually asks as he stands in the kitchen next to Richie, the two of them cleaning up after a late dinner. 

“Uh, it’s a friend of Bills. We met last week.” Richie explains.

“Do they have a name?” Stan jokingly speaks with the same tone a mom would use when inquiring about their child's first crush. 

“He does.” Richie shoots Stan an annoyed glance. It’s all in good fun, though.

“Can I hear it?”

“No.” 

“You’re so mean to me.”

“Yeah, I am, because I hate you.” The two share eye contact for a solid second before bursting into laughter. 

\--

A few days later and Eddie still hasn’t come back to Sunset/Sunrise for dinner. Richie considers texting Eddie but assumes he shouldn’t keep pushing him, he doesn’t know what exactly the circumstances of Eddie’s situation is and doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries. 

He’s on his smoke break when his phone starts ringing. 

_Holy shit!_

He picks up immediately. 

“Bev! Shit, hi! How are you?” It’s hard for him to hide his smile, not that he wants to anyway.

“I’m doing great! Just thought I’d check in with you, make sure you still had all your limbs. Me and Ben just landed.”

“Shut up, I’m the most responsible person alive, you know this.” He laughs. “How was the honeymoon anyway?” He takes a drag of his cigarette, leaning against the brick wall.

“It was great! Italy is so beautiful, wonderful architecture. You’d like it.”

“Maybe, but you’d never willingly let me crash your trip.”

“No, but you’d find a way to do it, anyway.” Beverly pauses to laugh on the other end of the line. “Anyway, I was calling because I thought that we should get together sometime, have dinner somewhere fancy. It’s been so long since all of us were together in the same place.”

Richie smiles just at the thought. “That sounds great, I’d definitely be up for that.” He thinks for a moment. “Did you already ask Stan or should I ask?” 

“You were the first person I called.”

“And you say you don’t pick favorites. I’m honored, Bev, I really am.”

“Beep beep.” Bev pauses again. “Anyway, if you wanted to ask Stan and Bill that’d be great, normally I wouldn’t trust you with this important information but I feel like I’m gonna crash any second now, and we still need to grab our luggage and catch a cab.”

“Enjoy that jet-lag sleep. It’s probably the deepest sleep you’ll get the next 10 years.” Richie laughs and snuffs his cigarette.

“Also let Stan and Bill know they can bring a plus-one if they want. You too, for that matter.”

“Aye aye captain Marsh.”

“Bye Rich. Love you.”

“Love you too. Ciao Bella!” Richie attempts his best Italian accent and hears Bev laugh before they hang up.

The rest of his shift goes by in the blink of an eye, and soon enough Richie is standing in the entryway of his and Stans apartment. Stan is sitting by the sofa table, doing a puzzle while instrumental music plays in the background. 

“Staniel! You’ll never guess who called me at work today.” Richie is kicking off his shoes as he speaks.

“Was it Bev?” Stan doesn’t shift his gaze from his puzzle.

“Shit, how’d you know?” 

“Because she told us a month ago that she and Ben were coming home today.”

“Well, that’s just cheating.” 

Stan shrugs with a smile painted on his lips. “Maybe so.”

“Anyway, she wanted me to ask you if you wanted to get together for dinner one of these days, Bill would be there, too.” He thinks for a moment. “Also she told me to tell you that you can bring a plus one.”

“Sure, I might have someone in mind. What about you? You gonna ask Bill’s mysterious friend to join us?”

“I- I don’t know, I mean we don’t even really know each other, I doubt he’d wanna tag along.”

“Sure, Rich.” Stan speaks with obvious sarcasm in his voice. “Anyway, I left some dinner ready for you in the kitchen.” 

“You really are the man, Stan.”

  
  


\---

It’s two days later, and Richie’s first full day off in months when he finally texts Eddie. It’s a decision he makes after going an entire 35 hours without sleep, on top of two mimosas, but it’s a decision nonetheless. 

[1:45PM] YOU: heyyyy how are you holding up eds. whats hot? 

He thinks it’s a great idea at the time.

It’s two hours later when Richie gets a response, and realizes that it probably wasn’t that great of an idea. 

[4:02PM] Eds: Are you day drinking? 

_This man has known him for not even a full month and he already saw right through him._

[4:06PM] YOU: mayhaps i am. whats it to you?

[4:10PM] Eds: Is mayhaps even a real word?

[4:13PM] YOU: is ur mom even a real word? 

[4:15PM] Eds: Answering your text was my biggest mistake of the day.

[4:19PM] YOU: :(( im sorry eds come back

[4:20PM] Eds: :) 

_What the fuck does ‘:)’ mean?_

_3_

‘:)’ is Eddie’s way of telling Richie that he’s not mad. His way of admitting that he did think he was funny sometimes. His way of admitting he didn’t want the conversation to end.

Of course, he can’t exactly blame Richie for not being able to decipher it.

The past few days had blended into each other, Eddie not knowing where one started and the other ended. He’d wake up in a bed next to a woman he doesn’t love, he’d go to work, he’d come home, he’d eat dinner, shower and go to bed. 

On the good days he’d have a song stuck in his head and would be too distracted by that to think about how miserable he truly was. 

Today isn’t one of those days. 

  
  


[4:26PM] Richie T: haha anywayyy, me and bill and some of our friends are having like a get together at a restaurant sometime in the near future and we’re supposed to bring a plus one and idk i thought i’d invite you. u dont have to come i totally get it we’re basically strangers after all but idk the invitation is open if you wanna hang out yknow haha. you already know bill, but other than that its just gonna be bev and her husband and stan and his plus-one

[4:27PM] Richie T: ive talked about stan before and bev and her husband are both rly sweet i promise

Eddies fingers hover over the keys before he begins typing.

[DRAFT] YOU: You type like a teenager. Sure, I’ll join you.

[DRAFT] YOU: Sure, sounds like fun.

Maybe he should run it by Myra before he made plans without her.

[4:30PM] YOU: I’ll get back to you on that. 

  
  


[4:35PM] Richie T: haha yeahhh like i said you dont have to come if you dont want to. it’s ur choice really, eds

Eddie supposes it is. 

\---

Admitting to himself that the one week he’d eaten at a shitty american diner had been more exciting than his first 26 years of life, is hard to say the least. The realization comes when he’s in bed that night, thinking but not really thinking, Myra is sleeping next to him and the AC is running. 

He’s thinking. 

He crawls out of bed and grabs his phone, slowly moving to the living room and sitting down on the couch. It’s pitch black, the only light coming in is from the streetlight outside. He unlocks his phone and is face to face with his last text conversation with Richie. 

He doesn’t think as he types his reply.

[3:14AM] YOU: Count me in.

He’s not expecting a reply back, so he gets ready to go to sleep again. His phone buzzes, though and he lets out a small yelp in surprise.

[ YOU HAVE (1) NEW MESSAGE FROM ‘Richie T’ ]

[3:15AM] Richie T: why are you up

[3:16AM] Richie T: and dont say that you could be asking me the same thing. we both know im a human disaster.

[3:18AM] YOU: No way, really? You? A human disaster, I would’ve never guessed.

[3:20AM] Richie T: is that sarcasm i sense from you mr eddie kaspbrak

[3:23AM] YOU: ‘Mayhaps’ it is.

Eddie smiles to himself as he types, wondering if Richie will get that he’s referencing their text conversation earlier. 

(3.5)

(Richie does get the reference)

There isn’t a reply for the next 5 minutes, and Eddie expects their conversation to have died after that, he didn’t want to get his hopes up, so that’s what he assumes. He doesn’t expect Richie to text him back with the following proposal:

[3:30AM] Richie T: lets call, im bored and my fingers hurt from typing

Eddie gets up from the couch and checks that Myras still sleeping. She is. He doesn’t exactly want to wake her up, and he knows that’s bound to happen if he starts a call with Richie at home. He assumes he can go for a walk this late at night, it’s a weekday, so not a lot of people would be out, as long as he dresses appropriately he’d be okay. He has work in the morning but he’d be fine.

[3:35AM] YOU: Sure, give me five minutes. I’ll call you.

[3:36AM] Richie T: ill be waiting <3<3<3

Eddie chuckles at that and shrugs a sweater and sweatpants on top of his pajamas, he puts on a pair of boots and a proper coat before leaving through the front door as quietly as possible. He waits until he’s a block away from home before he calls Richie, who picks up after barely one dial tone.

“Eddie spaghetti! How are you? What’s popping?”

“I’m talking to you.”

“Are you outside?” Richie asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“Yeah I’m- I’m going for a walk.”

“Shit! Hold on-” There’s shuffling on the other end of the line, the sound of rustling bedsheets and a door opening. Eddie wonders what he’s doing.

“Richie?”

“Let’s totally meet up, where are you at?”

“Richie!” Eddie hopes Richie knows what he means by just saying his name in a steady tone of voice.

(3.5)

(Richie knows exactly what he means.)

“Come on, it’ll be fun. I promise we don’t have to drink or anything we can just hang out.”

Eddie is quiet for a moment, he pretends he’s thinking it over but he already knew his answer the second Richie suggested it.

“Yeah, sure.” Eddie proceeds to give Richie his location and its around 15 minutes later when they meet up. 

\--

The moment Richie spots Eddie waiting for him he starts running towards him, the smaller of the two feeling a bit intimidated by having a 6 foot tall fully grown man running towards him.

“Edster! I knew I’d recognize those big eyes from a mile away.”

Eddie blinks, he doesn’t think much about his appearance, whenever he looks in the mirror lately he doesn’t quite recognize himself. He knows it’s him, but there’s just always something off about the person staring back at him. 

“They’re like teacups, you’re like a deer, man. It’s kind of eerie.” Richie elaborates.

“..What?”

“Welp, it’s uh- endearing, y’know? It was a compliment. An attempted one, anyway” Richie laughs awkwardly under his breath as he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one. “Let’s find somewhere to sit down, I’m freezing my ass off out here.” 

“You didn’t _have_ to join me.”

“Of course I did! What would I do if I woke up tomorrow and found out something happened to you while you were all alone out here? I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t care about your wellbeing.”

\--

They eventually find a bench on the side of the street and Richie finishes his cigarette, he snuffs it out and pulls something from his pocket. It looks like a small wallet with a pocket on top.

“Look here Eddie, it’s a portable ashtray! Now you can’t complain about me littering anymore.”

“Wow, look at that. Is that character development I sense from you?”

“I knew you’d be proud.” Richie says with a grin and places the bud in the ashtray and puts it back into his jacket pocket. 

Eddie smiles and looks at the people on the other side of the street walking by, all looking down, they’re all hurrying to wherever they have to be. The street is somewhere temporary, you’re never just hanging out there. It’s like being at a gas station at night, or an empty train station. It feels melancholy, like you’re not supposed to be there for too long. 

You’re not allowed to get comfortable.

Eddie figures he’s that kind of person. Someone temporary. Someone people don’t allow themselves to get close to because he’s someone who drains, someone who takes, someone who needs someone else to care for him.

Eddie had been lonely back home in Maine, it was part of the reason why he decided to live in NYC. But you could be lonelier than ever in the busiest city in the US. For the longest time he’d settled for that, and convinced himself he was fine. But maybe there is a difference between being fine and being happy, and maybe 26 was a little late to realize that. 

Eddie shakes his head at himself and for a moment he forgets he’s sitting outside on a bench at 3AM with a person he barely knows.

For a moment he feels like he’s found a home.

Doubt comes in.

“Are we friends, Richie?”

“Do you want us to be?”

Speaking the truth feels like taking a trust fall. Only this time he doesn’t know if someone’s going to catch him.

“Yeah, I do.”

There’s a tense silence for a moment. Eddie wonders what Richie is thinking. 

Is he going to catch him?

“Boy, I am SO glad you didn’t say no. Imagine how awkward that would be- What would I even do? Just silently walk away from you? Leave you here on the street-”

He does. 

Eddie laughs, not because Richie’s joke is particularly funny, but because he’s happy. 

“I knew you found me funny, Eds.”

“Only sometimes.” He admits.

The two talk about everything and nothing for the next hour or so, Richie offers to walk Eddie home and for a moment, Eddie considers saying yes. 

“No thanks.. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure, it’s really not an issue-”

“I’m sure, Richie.” He immediately regrets the tone he uses. “I’m sorry, I- this isn’t your fault.”

He’s expecting Richie to clap back. To tell him off. 

He doesn’t.

“That’s alright, Eds.” He offers him a smile and ruffles his hair. 

“It’s not alright! I can’t keep being a dick to you just because I’m-” He thinks for a moment, he has no idea what’s wrong with him. “I don’t know. Because I’m fucked up, I guess. You were just trying to be nice to me.”

“Eddie. It’s really not a problem. Text me when you get home?” 

Eddie doesn’t know why, but he feels overwhelmed with joy.

“I will.”

  
  


He does.

4

  
  


Richie gets home at 5AM with exactly the right amount of energy and lack of self control to be wholly unable to resist texting Bev. He knows she usually wakes up at 5:30, so he’s walking around the apartment while he texts, trying not to make too much noise as he makes himself a grilled cheese.

[5:12AM] YOU: guess who has a plus one!!!! 

[5:33AM] Bevvv: Where does one find a plus-one at 5 in the morning? Suspicious.

[5:37AM] YOU: whats suspicious abt that!! i was just hanging with him and thought id let u know

[5:40AM] Bevvv: I see you, Richard Tozier.

[5:43AM] YOU: see what!!! youre so mean to me its absolutely unfathomable

[5:45AM] Bevvv: Too early for big words, rise and shine now! Or in your case, go to sleep, Rich.

Richie sighs, she knows him too well. 

[5:49AM] YOU: love you bev :(( goodnight <3

[5:50AM] Bevvv: Goodnight, love you too. 

\--

Richie has a 12-hour shift 6 hours after he falls asleep, and it’s by sheer luck that he manages to clock in on time. Every customer seems to blend together as the hours pass, soon enough hours become days blending together and Richie falls back into his usual rhythm. Except, there’s something different this time. Text conversations before bed, 5 minute phone calls when he’s on his break, they’re a welcome change of pace, and when Stan asks about him one day, he’s eager to share. 

Stan was sort of a weird guy at times, sometimes he’d laugh to himself when reading a book, Richie would ask what was funny, Stan would explain and Richie would think it was the strangest thing to find funny. Stan would get up in the night and bake brownies and then proceed to go back to bed without having a single slice. Stan would go on 8 hour drives back to Derry just to go birdwatching outside of NYC on his days off. 

Deciphering Stanley Uris is something a lot of people try to do, none succeed and Richie found out long ago that it is completely unnecessary to try and figure out how Stan’s internal clockwork worked, anyway. There is no single word to truly describe Stanley Uris. Stan is home to Richie, feels like living nostalgia, and a friend. He feels lucky.

Richie tells Stan about Eddie, about his job as a ‘risk analyst’- boring as it is, about the first time they met, about the time they went drinking and about the time they went for a walk together and Eddie asked him if they were friends. 

Stan listens attentively, with that smile on his lips that says everything about him. 

\--

One day, Stan brings home someone new. Beforehand he tells Richie that they’re semi-dating, whatever that means, and to act nice.

“I’m always nice.” Richie says, Stan blinks at him with tired eyes and shakes his head.

Patty is a fresh out of school-teacher at a middle school and likes watching reruns of ‘Family Feud’ and ‘Whose Line Is It Anyway’ in her spare time. She and Stan met due to mutual friends from his time at the NY State University and they’d hit it off right away. They’d been talking for two months now.

Patty is nice, Richie thinks, she’s a bit plain but she seems like she makes Stan happy and that’s what matters in the end. Stan makes dinner for the three of them and every time she talks about anything, he looks at her like the sun rises and sets with her. 

Richie is happy for his friend, and when he starts spending more and more nights at her place, Richie doesn’t mind either. He spends his free time working on his material, he doesn’t even have time to realize how loud the empty apartment gets at times. 

\--

Eddie doesn’t come in to Sunset/Sunrise every day anymore, and Richie would never admit that he does a double-take anytime a short brunette comes in alone, sometimes people look like Eddie, but they’re never him. When Richie thinks about it, a lot of people look like Eddie, not that his look is very unique, anyway. Lots of people have short brown hair, styled semi-formally, lots of people were 5’9’’, lots of people wear those stupid polo shirts. 

But none of them are Eddie. 

Which is why, when Eddie does walk in one night, drenched from the rain outside, Richie is ecstatic. He sits down in his usual booth and Richie approaches him instantly.

“Eddie Spaghetti! How are you, man?”

“Why are you greeting me like we didn’t talk yesterday?” 

“I don’t know, can I not appreciate my friend?” Richie grins and pinches Eddie’s cheek, who responds with a furrowed brow and a pout. 

_Cute cute cute!!!_

“Be careful, Rich, I might revoke your ‘friend’ card if you keep that up.”

“You don’t want to be friends anymore? Is this your way of proposing to me? Oh, Eddie, I’m so honored I don’t know what to say-”

“Shut the fuck up Richie!” Eddie speaks through laughter.

He orders a number 1 again and Richie tells him its on the house. Eddie doesn’t object. However when he gets up to leave only 10 minutes after finishing his meal, Richie raises a brow.

“What? You tired of me already?” He isn’t mad or sad, he’s just used to when Eddie visited him at work he stayed for far longer, not necessarily talking to him, but just staring out the window, reading a newspaper, it was like he usually stalled for time before leaving. But not today.

“Yeah I- I was just going to CVS to pick up some medication, so I-” He looks down. “I can’t stay long tonight.” 

“At 9pm?” 

“Health is urgent.” Eddie shrugs. 

“So you’re not sticking around?” Richie fake pouts, he’s not intending to guilt Eddie for leaving. 

“I… actually told my wife I’d be home right after.” Richie can’t help but notice that speaking the words ‘my wife’ makes it sound like Eddie is choking.

_Oh yeah, his wife. Wait- wasn’t he getting divorced?_

“Oh!” He exclaims, and immediately after he realizes how stupid he sounded. “Don’t miss me too much, then.” He winks and Eddie smiles in response.

“Oh yeah, the dinner is tomorrow, right? With your friends?” 

“You got that right!” 

The two stand in silence for a short moment before Richie realizes what Eddie is implying by asking.

“Oh shit! I’ll text you the location, hold on.” Richie runs into the back and shuffles around in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out his phone and quickly trying to forward the restaurant to Eddie without the chef noticing him. He manages to do so.

“Did you get it?!” He yells from the kitchen, looking out at Eddie through the pass-through window. The smaller man responds with a thumbs-up and a smile. Richie returns the smile.

  
  


He only misses Eddie a little bit after he leaves, at least that’s what he tells himself.

  
  


5

  
  


Eddie is standing in front of a full-length mirror in his and Myra’s bedroom, having a clothing crisis reminiscent of what he saw in teen movies. 

“It’s a company dinner.” He says to Myra when she asks him why he’s getting dressed up.

“Really? You haven’t mentioned it before.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. But are you seriously going to a company dinner dressed like that?” She gestures to Eddie, who’s currently wearing his pink polo and beige pants. She speaks as she looks through his closet and pulls out one of his suits. “Here, put this on instead.”

“A full suit might be a bit too formal, I think..”

“Oh hush! You’ve always looked so handsome in suits.” She pats his back forcefully, pausing seriously before asking: “You’re not gonna be drinking, right?”

“No, I won’t be drinking. Don’t worry, Myra.” He reassures, unbuttoning his polo to take it off again.

“Good, you’re so responsible, my handsome little man.” She pinches his cheek and walks into the living room.

He feels uncomfortable as he looks at himself in a full suit. He’d change back to his polo and jeans, but he knew it’d mean a lecture from Myra about how he never appreciated her, and then there was no way he’d get permission to leave the house that evening.

So he steps into the living room, in a suit he doesn’t feel comfortable in, and kisses a woman he doesn’t love goodbye. 

He walks to the location Richie had sent him the day prior, thinking he could use the fresh air.

\--

They’re all supposed to meet up at a restaurant called _‘Jade of the Orient’_ , Eddie is among the first to arrive aside from Bill and his plus one, that he assumes is the librarian he’s mentioned before. The two approach him, Bill greets him with a hug and the librarian with a handshake.

“I’m Mike Hanlon. It’s Eddie, right?”

“Yeah- Eddie Kaspbrak.” 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Bill’s mentioned you before.”

_He has?_

Soon enough two more people arrive, one with fiery hair cut just short of her shoulders, the other with a broad and muscular build, a five o’clock shadow, and grey hair peeking at his temples, in spite of the fact he appears much less than 30 years old. 

He doesn’t recognize any of them, but assumes it’s Bev and her husband that he never got the name of. The two also approach him, and after formal introductions he learns that it is indeed Bev and Ben. 

It’s also then that Eddie realizes he’s way overdressed. Everyone else is in semi-formal attire at most, if even that, and Eddie is literally standing in his work suit. He feels awkward to say the least and eventually he takes off his suit jacket.

Bev is taking off her own coat as she looks around the foyer of the restaurant. “Are we just waiting for Richie and Stan then? And Patty, too, of course.”

“Looks like it.” Mike says.

It’s after 5 minutes of standing in the foyer, and making small talk that their server eventually suggests that they move to the table and just order to get a head start on the others, and they’d join once they arrived.

“I just know their late arrival is somehow Richie’s fault, let’s go then, I’m not waiting for that trashmouth.” Bev says with a twinkle in her eye. The rest agree and they’re eventually led to their table, it’s a round table with 8 seats with a lady susan in the middle. They all take a seat next to their relative partners, leaving an empty space next to Eddie for Richie, Stan and Patty.

Eddie wonders for a minute why they might be like, Richie was never late when the two were meeting, and when they were talking on the phone a reply was almost instant. Had they gotten in some sort of accident? No, maybe the transportation there was just delayed? Or they’d gotten the wrong restaurant name and are currently at a place called ‘Arcade of the rent’? No, that can’t be it, Stanley seems pretty clever from what Richie has spoken of him, he would’ve double checked the name for sure. 

The 5 eventually order drinks to start off with and after another 5 minutes the remaining three arrive. Stan’s expression looks like he’s been through hell and back. Richie’s expression does not. 

“There you are!” Bill exclaims and gets out of his seat to greet them, the rest follow suit. 

“Sorry we’re late, Richie had a minor crisis on what to wear.” Stan explains.

“Minor is putting it lightly.” Patty laughs gently.

“Stop ganging up on me, you’re hurting my feelings.” Richie sighs as he sits down next to Eddie.

“Wait, Richie? A crisis on what to wear?” Bev asks, her tone makes it sound like someone asked if 2+2 equals 5.

“You’re kidding.” Bill adds.

“Nope!” Stan laughs and pats Richie on the back.

Eddie takes a quick look at what Richie is actually wearing, it looks like a regular outfit for him. It’s just a patterned hawaiian button-up paired with dark jeans. Eddie would never think that it took a lot of effort to put together. To be fair, with Eddie’s outfit he shouldn’t be one to judge. 

All 8 are eventually at the table and Eddie kind of sits back and listens when they begin talking. It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to join in, he just doesn’t feel like his input would mean anything. So he stays quiet, occasionally contributing with a laugh or a one-word reply. 

Mike eventually asks how Bill, Richie, Bev and Stan know each other.

“W-we g-grew up together in Derry. In Maine.” Bill replies and gestures to the other three.

“No way!” Mike exclaims, and the rest of the table go quiet to attentively listen. “I grew up in Derry, too.”

“What! No way.” Bev says. “What part? Did we go to the same school together?”

“I was homeschooled, I didn’t really get out much.” He explains, and Bev nods.

“I grew up in Derry, too.” Eddie adds. 

“What are the odds?” Richie laughs and takes a sip of his drink. 

“I went to Derry Middle.” Eddie says and the table goes quiet. 

“The five of us have been friends since we were… what? 8? 9? And we met Ben when we were 12 or 13, I think.” Bev states, obviously trying to make sense of how they’ve never ran into each other in a town like Derry where friends were in short supply.

“Around that.” Richie shrugs and takes a sip of his drink.

“Yeah we c-called ourselves, ‘The L-l-losers Club’.”

“It was a bit on the nose.” Stan remarks.

“But it was true.” Richie raises his glass and everyone clinks their glasses together.

“What about you Eddie? What were you like as a kid?” Bev asks. “Where did you hang out?”

“Oh I was kind of a shut-in as a kid, I didn’t- Didn’t really leave my house a whole lot.”

“That’s okay, too.” Stan comments. “We couldn’t keep Richie inside to save his life when he was a kid, this man right here has gotten us into so much shit, both figuratively and literally, you have _no_ idea.” He points to Richie, who responds with a fake offended face.

  
“Oh shut it, you love me.” He pats Stan’s back twice and sends a wink in his direction.

“Oh, wait… You’re gonna love this- hold on.” Bevs face lights up as she seems to remember something, she reaches for her phone. “I’m sure I have some old pictures from Richie’s middle school days.” 

“Oh so now we’re ganging up against me?”

“That’s exactly what’s happening.” Stan says.

Beverly scrolls on her phone for a bit before handing it over to Eddie, who looks at the photo displayed on it.

  
  
  


“This was our middle school prom.” Bev explains. “Richie and Stan went together. It was so cute.”

“Hey! Why do I have to get pulled into this as well?” Stan exclaims and Patricia leans in to look at the phone as well. 

Richie is hiding his face in his hands as Eddie and Patty share a chuckle at the picture.

“Look at your little suits! Oh god, Stans little vest!” Patty exclaims with pure joy, Eddie is having the time of his life.

“Please don’t.” Stan shakes his head.

“Is there more?” 

“No! Absolutely not!” Richie reaches over and grabs Bevs phone out of Eddie's hands, shoving it into his pocket. 

“Oh there is a lot more!” Bev laughs loudly. “Give me back my phone!”

Eddie looks over to Bill and Mike, who are barely paying attention to the conversation, they’re talking about something entirely different while looking at each other with pure endearment. Ben is looking at Bev like she’s his entire world. Love wasn’t in short supply with them, not at all. It hits Eddie like a train, these people love each other so deeply and Eddie feels like he’s imposing. Like he’s not supposed to be there. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” Eddie says, only Beverly seems to hear him over the playful yelling from the others.

“Sure, Eds.” Bev sends a smile his way as he leaves the table. 

\--

Eddie is staring at himself in the mirror, trying to manage his breathing when Richie appears behind him.

“How are ya, Eds?”

“I’m fine- Your friends, they’re really nice.”

“They are, aren’t they?”

“I’m more impressed that they’ve managed to be in your presence for more than 15 years without going crazy.”

“Shut up, you love me.” Richie elbows Eddie gently. “They like you, too.”

Eddie blinks and all of a sudden he’s a child again, in his bedroom in front of his full-length mirror, staring at his reflection and wondering what was wrong with him. He hadn’t realized it back then, but he had been lonely. He’d bought a diary for his 13th birthday, and had been unable to fill it up with anything. He’d rejoiced at rainy summer days so he didn’t have to watch groups of friends run around outside, playing in the streets. It’d been easier to live without confronting himself of how badly he wanted people to like him. He thinks to himself that it’s incredibly bad timing that he realizes this in the middle of a restaurant bathroom.

It’s only when he snaps out of it again that he feels his cheek is wet and his eyes are blurry. He blinks, and Richie is standing in front of him, worry clear in his eyes.

“Eddie? Hey, Buddy are you okay?”

“I’m fine- Sorry.” He wipes his eyes with a paper towel Richie hands him. “I don’t know what happened.” 

“Do you need a minute? Should I go?” Richie offers and Eddies reply is instant. 

“No.” Eddie reaches out and gently grabs hold of Richies wrist. He doesn’t know what he’s reaching for or why he’s doing it, but Richie responds by pulling him into a hug. 

“You’re okay. Don’t worry.” 

They stay like that for a minute or two. Eddie revels in the feeling of Richie’s chest rising and falling with each breath. He feels like he’s home. 

_You’re imposing, Eddie, stop making him feel bad for you._

Eddie pulls away. “I should go home. Sorry for this.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Do you want me to go as well? We can share an uber.”

_YOU’RE IMPOSING._

Eddie stands still for a moment as he thinks.

_YOU’RE TAKING ADVANTAGE OF HIM._

“You don’t have to for my sake-”

“I want to.”

_Does he, though?_

Eddie manages a nod before speaking: “Sure, then.”

He can’t quite place what Richie’s expression means, but he quickly grabs his hand and they make their way back out to the others.

“There you are!” Bev exclaims.

“We were g-gonna keep moving and go to a b-bar, if that’s okay with you two?” Bill asks, but they’re already halfway off of their seats. 

Eddie remains quiet.

“Yeah, me and Eddie were actually about to head out anyway, so you guys can just go ahead without us.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah it’s totally fine, Bev, don’t worry about us.” 

Beverly moves to hug Richie goodbye, Eddie isn’t expecting a hug from her either, but she offers him one anyway, which he accepts. Bev pulls Eddie into an embrace and he immediately melts. It doesn’t feel like the hugs his mom used to give him, or the hugs he gets from Myra when he’s upset. It feels different. He feels warm, understood, happy. He doesn’t quite want to let go and lets the hug linger for as long as possible before Bev pulls away and offers him a warm smile.

It’s then Eddie realizes that he likes hugs a lot.

They all say their individual goodbyes and soon enough Richie and Eddie are outside waiting for their uber. Eddie is sitting on the curb and Richie is on his phone, jokingly ranting to himself. 

“What the fuck is a 2009 Honda Civic? How am I supposed to know what that looks like? How hard is it to just tell me the color of the car?” 

Eddie is listening attentively, laughing under his breath as he sees the before-mentioned car pull up in front of the restaurant. He points it out.

“It’s that one, Rich.”

“You’re a genius!” Richie laughs as he pinches his cheek. Eddie smiles weakly in response and they two get into the uber, give their addresses and soon enough Eddie’s sitting through their driver making small talk with Richie in the back seat. Usually his second-hand embarrassment is through the roof when having to sit through small talk, but Richie is so charismatic his responses seem like he’s actually invested in the conversation.

They pull up at Eddie’s home, they say goodnight to each other and Eddie exits the car walking the few feet to the front door. He hasn’t looked back, but he hasn’t heard the car drive off yet. Richie was probably waiting for him to enter, but every step closer to the front door feels heavier and heavier, like stepping on knives over and over and over again. He stands there for a full minute, pretending to look for his keys. 

His heart is beating in his ears. Drunk people on the street are yelling at each other. Music is playing from a passing car.

Eddie takes a step away from his front door and turns back to face the uber, still waiting for him to enter. The brake lights are flashing red, yelling at him.

He walks back to the car, and gets back in, he doesn’t dare look in Richie’s direction. 

“Sorry I- I forgot my house keys.” He says, like a liar. “Can I-” He looks down at his hands. “Can I crash with you Richie?” He asks, looking out the window. He feels a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly. 

“Of course, Eds.”

The two drive off and soon enough they’re in front of a huge apartment complex, Richie buzzing the two of them in. The silence is tense, and only broken when they’re in the elevator, passing the 5th floor.

“Uh, Stan texted me before and said he’s sleeping at Pattys place, by the way.”

“Oh, I see.”

“So you don’t have to worry about them.”

“I see.”

“Yup.” 

“ _13th floor. Stay clear of the doors.”_

“This is our stop.” Richie says, jokingly, and the two get off together. Richie’s apartment is way cleaner than he expected and there’s a lingering smell of smoke to the entryway that ceases once they enter the actual living room. It’s nicely decorated and the floor is clean, several sets of clothes are swung over the couch, though, and Eddie can only assume it’s the clothes Richie had tried on earlier during his ‘crisis’. 

“Ah shit. Sorry about that.” Richie remarks, moving to collect all the clothes and carry them into another room. A muted ‘thump’ is heard, and Eddie assumes Richie just threw it all on the floor. 

Richie and Eddie stand in an apartment by themselves. The silence is deafening and Eddie doesn’t know why it’s so hard to speak. The two move to sit on the couch next to each other, they share an awkward glance. 

“Do you- uh- Need to borrow any clothes to sleep in?” He offers.

“Sure, thanks.” 

Richie nods and gets up from the couch and walks into another room. Eddie reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his house keys. He feels stupid, like an imposter, like every single piece of furniture in Richie’s apartment was screaming at him to get out. 

_This isn’t your home._

_Go home to Myra. You’re being unfair._

_And yet, he can’t get himself to get up._

Richie walks back into the living room with a t-shirt and pajama pants in hand. “I didn’t know what kind of clothes you normally sleep in, but I thought-”

“What am I doing here, Richie?” Eddie interrupts, sitting with his keys in hand, staring at them. “I have my keys right here, I didn’t need to impose on you.”

“I know.” 

“What?” 

“You’re a bad liar, Eds. I knew you had your house keys.”

“Why didn’t you call me out on it, then?”

“Because we’re friends. If you need to not be at home right now, that’s okay.”

_Oh yeah. You’re his friend._

“Eddie I- I don’t know what it is about you, but you feel like someone I’ve known my entire life. I have this pure, raw instinct to get to know you, make up for lost time, y’know?” Richie speaks. “I won’t sit here and pretend I know everything you’re going through, but I _am_ sitting here.” He reaches and gently grabs Eddies keys out of his hands and places them on the sofa table.

Eddie is quiet for a moment.

_He feels safe._

“That was a horrible analogy.” He laughs. “‘ _I’m sitting here’_? I can see why Bill is the author and not you.”

“Hey!” Richie laughs with him and the tension in the air is completely gone. Neither of the two are particularly tired, and eventually decide on watching whatever garbage is on TV. At this point, Eddie can quote every commercial by heart and Richie finds that absolutely hysterical.

“You’re practically running on autopilot! Holy shit, Eds!”

The two go quiet as Eddies phone starts ringing.

[ ‘Myra’ IS CALLING ]

[ ACCEPT / DECLINE ]

The TV is still running in the background, they stare at the phone before Eddie picks it up, Richie reaches for the remote to turn off the TV but Eddie shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine.”

[ ACCEPT / **DECLINE** ]

Eddie turns it off and puts down the phone again without saying a word. Neither of them say anything about it, they only go back to making fun of the ridiculous TV shows, like nothing had even happened. For a brief second, Eddie looks over to Richie, who’s too caught up in whatever shows on TV, he thinks about everything before shaking his head at himself and for a moment he forgets he’s sitting on a couch at his friends apartment. 

For a moment he feels like he’s found a home.

Eddie doesn’t realize it, but eventually he drifts off to sleep.

5.5

  
  


When Stan comes home the following morning, Eddie and Richie are asleep on the couch and the TV is still running. It isn’t like it’s a cramped space, there’s definitely room for two fully-grown adults. But to say he supposed it was a comfortable sleep for the two would be a stretch. For a moment he wonders how he managed to figure everything out, how he managed to get where he is today. 

As he got older he found out that nobody really knows what they were doing, and he finds comfort in that.

As he looks upon his sleeping roommate and new friend, he wonders how he gets to be so lucky.

He shakes his head with a smile on his face, sighs, and moves to his room, turning on the light. He takes a look around and sits down by his desk, and begins folding origami swans to pass the time. 

It’s around half an hour later when he gets 3 notifications on his phone. He coincidentally also hears 3 notifications from the living room.

[ ‘Bill’ ADDED YOU AND (7) OTHERS TO A GROUP CHAT ]

[‘Bill’ CHANGED THE NAME OF THE GROUP TO ‘The Losers Club!’ ]

[ ‘The Losers Club!’: ONE NEW MESSAGE FROM ‘Bill’ ]

[9:21AM] Bill: Hi everyone! I thought it’d be a good idea to have everyone collected in this group

Stan watches as more messages appear, they’re all greetings and smalltalk. He follows from the sidelines before seeing a message that catches his eye. It isn’t in the group chat, it’s a private text from Patty.

[9:32AM] Babylove: Hey Stanley, I just wanted to say thanks for introducing me to your friends. I had a lot of fun last night, you know.

[9:35AM] YOU: You too, Patty, I’m really happy you wanted to join us, even if we’re a handful. 

[9:40AM] Babylove: You’re _my_ handful ;) 

When he hears shuffling around in the living room, he sets his phone down and walks out to see Richie and Eddie awake on the couch and making small talk. 

He smiles at the two and asks them if they want breakfast.

They do. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fellas is it gay to hang out on a bench outside at 3am
> 
> hey! did you like it? did you hate it? let me know! 
> 
> @dansk_javlen on twitter!


	3. 'sorry' cant save me now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a bit! no illustration this chapter :( sorry guys, i might add one later but im rly not feeling it for this chpt! (you may have noticed a small rebranding, we used to be table for two, now we're cognitive dissonance! still the same fic and everything, just a new name) 
> 
> this is also an entire chapter in eddies pov! enjoy
> 
> chapter title from listen before i go by billie eilish!

1

Eddie stays with Stan and Richie over the weekend, and the two roommates don’t seem to mind his presence. Eddie tries his best to be low-maintenance now that he’s imposing on their privacy and their home; though, his mind is running on overtime trying to convince himself that he’s not being a bother. If he was bothering them, they would tell him. It works for the most part, but sometimes it comes creeping up on him, when he’s on the couch watching some wildlife documentary on TV with Richie, or when Stan is teaching him how to do simple origami, or when he’s looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

_You’re not really welcome, are you?_

_This is only temporary._

But then Richie will tell a stupid joke that Stanley will try his best not to laugh at and Eddie feels like this is home, with two people he’s known less than a month. He finds himself longing for a childhood he didn’t get to have, and when he reminds himself he could’ve had so much more than what he has now, he longs to leave his body behind and start anew. It’s almost unbearable.

He feels like it’s his own fault.

For two days he lets himself crash on a couch in the living room of an apartment stuffed to the brim with genuine love and care- but he feels guilty every time he feels an ounce of it.

Sunday night it becomes too much for Eddie to bear. Stanley is in his own room, reading a book while Richie and Eddie are on the couch on their phones with Little Richard playing on a speaker. Eddie’s thoughts become too loud for him and he eventually lets one of them slip: 

“Do you think I’m making a mistake?”

Richie puts his phone down and looks in Eddie’s direction.

“What?” Richie says, Eddie can’t exactly pin down what his expression is telling him.

_Shit._

“I- I mean-” Eddie looks down at his hand, the light catching his wedding ring and blinding him for a brief moment. “I’m... kind of a shit husband, aren’t I?”

“If I’m being honest, I keep forgetting you’re _actually_ a husband,” Richie says bluntly, but immediately seems to regret it. “Like, not in a bad way, I just- shit sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. You know what I mean-”

“No, you’re right.” Eddie interrupts. “I shouldn’t be ignoring my wife’s calls, I shouldn’t be hanging around here... crashing on a couch like some kind of teen..” He feels his breathing start to escalate. “What kind of person am I-”

“Hey hey, Eddie, look at me for a second.” Richie immediately moves over to sit in front of him on the floor. 

“I’m looking.” Eddie looks at him. 

“Do you need anything? Should I get you some water?”

“Don’t baby me.” Eddie’s words are harsh and he doesn’t know why he’s saying them.

“I- Sorry, Eds.” He takes a moment to compose himself, it doesn’t seem to work. “I guess ghosting on your spouse is, in normal situations, pretty fuckin’ shitty. But I don’t think you’re in a normal situation- Shit, that sounds wrong. I mean, I think you might need some time apart?” Richie fumbles for his words, speaking too fast for himself to catch. “Weren’t you going through a divorce? This is perfectly normal to feel conflicted about-” 

Eddie’s breathing is getting more rapid. 

“I’m a terrible person, Myra doesn’t deserve me acting like this. Shit- Richie, I-” Eddie gets up from the couch. “I should go home.” 

“Eds, just-” 

“No, Richie! I’m acting like a child, just running away from my responsibilities like this. Thank you for letting me crash, and taking care of me but I...” He thinks for a moment, and desperately wishes to himself he could get himself to stay, but his body is moving on autopilot as he puts on his shoes and coat. “I should really go home.”

The ruckus eventually gets Stanley to peek out from his room, who sends Eddie and Richie a worried glance from the doorway. 

“Eds… just stay in contact, okay?” Richie says. 

Eddie is quiet, speaking feels like barbed wire on his throat, he nods, though. 

“Stay safe.” Richie continues.

Eddie is already out the door. 

\--

The second he steps outside the apartment complex he regrets it. He feels uncomfortable, like every step he wants to run back, not necessarily back to Richie and Stan’s apartment, he wants to run back to a place where he belongs. But no matter how hard he thinks, he doesn’t know where that is. He wants to run to a place where he can scream at the top of his lungs, dance with 26 years of pent-up anger and joy and sorrow. Somewhere he can feel safe. 

He needs everything to go back to normal.

Myra.

_Myra_.

_She can help you._

_She can make you feel safe._

\--

And so, Eddie is in front of his front door unlocking it with the keys he’s had on him since Friday. He doesn’t know what time it is but when he enters his foyer the light in the living room is on, and the radio is running. Eddie can’t make out what’s playing, it sounds like some kind of white noise, a mix of voices and laughter and it’s all too loud.

And there is Myra. Sitting on the couch, crouched over, she looks like she’s been crying. 

_This is his fault._

“Eddie-bear?” Myra looks up and Eddie moves towards her. 

Eddie musters up a small: “Myra..”

“Oh Eddie, I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been worried sick- Did something happen-”

He pulls her into an embrace that should feel so familiar, he clings to her, desperate for any feeling of comfort.

He tries to remember the first day they met, how he had thought to himself that any man would be lucky to have Myra. He tries to remember their first kiss, how he had been so sure he would warm up to her eventually. He tries to remember their wedding day, how grand it had been and how beautiful the pictures had been. 

He feels nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

Eddie is quiet for a moment, his heart is beating in his eardrums. 

“Why did I marry you?”

Myra blinks, her breath shaky. 

“Why would you say that?”

Eddie regrets his words immediately. 

“I’m sorry Myra, I’m sorry- I don’t know why I said that. I love you, honey.”

“I help you, Eddie.” Myra is crying now, her words are clear, though. “Why would you say that?”

And Eddie pulls her into another embrace as he begins crying, too. “I’m sorry Myra, I love you. I love you so much.” He says, trying to convince himself. 

He longs for a sense of comfort that he doesn’t get. 

_‘I help you, Eddie’_

_She isn’t wrong._

The two sleep in the same bed, but Eddies body feels like its burning and Myra is cold against him whenever their arms brush against each other. He feels like he’s not truly present.

\--

Eddie Kaspbrak is standing in the middle of his childhood hometown, there’s absolutely no one around, no people in cars, no kids on their bikes, he’s alone. He yells the name of someone he’s long forgotten. He waits for a response, but none comes. 

Eddie Kaspbrak runs to his home, runs up the stairs to his front door. He runs into his childhood bedroom, everything is exactly like he remembers. In spite of all the years that have passed since he was last here, nothing’s changed. Everything is like it always has been. He doesn’t know why, but he’s terrified. 

  
  


Eddie Kaspbrak wakes up in a cold sweat, next to Myra who’s still asleep. Their alarm clock blares a cold, solid: 6:30AM. He crawls out of bed, gets dressed and makes himself breakfast in the form of a slice of toast and an egg. It doesn’t taste very good and he’s barely finished eating when he hears Myra’s voice echo from their bedroom. 

“Eddie? Are you leaving already?” 

Eddie moves into their bedroom, and stands awkwardly in the doorway. 

“I’m heading to work.” 

“Okay, have a good day honey.” She mumbles, tiredly under her breath and rolls over to continue sleeping. 

Eddie leaves before she can say anything further.

He sits in his car and starts up the engine but he can’t pull out of his driveway before he has put his feet on the brakes and take a deep breath. A wave of emotions hit him like a car on the freeway.

“This is all wrong.” He says to himself. “It’s all wr-” He can barely manage to speak again before he hears his voice crack and his eyes swell up with tears.

The realization is overwhelming. He let this happen. The world around him goes quiet and all he can hear is his own muffled, unstable breathing. He doesn’t feel present and yet all-too present at the same time. He wants to scream and his throat tightens but no sound comes out. He can’t even see further than his dashboard anymore. 

He’s thinking his plan through: he was going to talk it out with her, tell her how he feels. 

He wants to believe she’ll understand and be better.

_She won’t._

He’s shaking with a lifetime of pent-up frustration. He can’t stay like this anymore. The comfort he was so used to having, is gone. But now he’s realizing it wasn’t ever present in the first place. He made himself believe he was okay and now he’s stuck in a life he doesn’t feel is his own. 

It’s all wrong. 

He looks at his left hand, at his wedding ring. He’s shaking but he manages to take it off, and throw it. It makes a small sound as it lands somewhere in the car - he doesn’t look where. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck.” He tries taking deep breaths, until he finally gets the strength to scream at the top of his lungs, then proceeds to sit in silence in his car. 

He takes his foot off the brakes.

The drive to work feels long, his car feels colder than usual, his hands are gripping the steering wheel too tightly and he feels like something is stuck in his throat. He feels like this is his first time behind the wheel.

His phone is buzzing with the usual ‘Good morning’ messages in the group chat he was now in. He doesn’t properly read them, though. He’s driving.

He parks in his usual spot, says hi to the receptionist like usual and heads to his cubicle. He opens up where he left off last and goes to work. Eddie doesn’t realize it, but he gets so lost in his work that the first time he takes a break is hours later. He takes his phone out of his coat pocket and checks what’s happening, nothing really, like usual. Except for..

[ YOU HAVE 56 NEW TEXT MESSAGES IN: ‘The Losers Club!’ ]

_Holy shit, is this normal?_

Eddie looks over his shoulder to check that his supervisor isn’t there and scrolls through to the top of the texts.

[8:45AM] Richie T: GUESS WHO JUST BOOKED A JOB BITCHESSSSS

[8:50AM] Bev: Congrats Rich! When and where? 

[8:51AM] Richie T: AT AN ACTUAL THEATRE. ON SATURDAY.

[8:52AM] Richie T: I’M THE OPENING ACT BEFORE THIS OTHER GUY. JOHN WHATSHISNUTS. THE ORIGINAL OPENING ACT GOT IN A CAR ACCIDENT AND ONE OF THE PRODUCERS OF THE SHOW HAD SEEN ME PERFORM LIKE 3 MONTHS AGO AT SOME BAR SO THEY CONTACTED ME INSTEAD!! 

[8:53AM] Bev: Jesus, is he okay?

[8:54AM] Richie T: who?

[8:55AM] Bev: The original opening act. The guy who got in a car accident.

[8:56AM] Richie T: OH YEAH HE’S FINE! JUST SOME BROKEN BONES 

[8:57AM] Bev: Holy shit. But that’s great to hear, Rich!

[8:59AM] Bill: I’m really happy for you, Mikey and I will be there!

[8:59AM] Ben: Me and Bev will have to find a dog-sitter, but we’ll be there!!! :D

[9:02AM] Stan: i already said this in person but im proud of you richie

[9:05AM] Richie T: YESSS KEEP COMPLIMENTING ME

[9:08AM] Stan: i refuse

The rest of the conversation carries on with Richie giving address and time and pondering whether or not he could get them all backstage passes. Eddie doesn’t really read through it properly. Instead, he goes into his contacts and hesitates for a moment before selecting Richie.

[ Richie T. CALL / FACETIME / EDIT CONTACT ]

[ Richie T. CALL / FACETIME / **EDIT CONTACT** ]

[ EDIT NAME: Richie T -> Richie]

[ **SAVE** ]

It’s a small change but it makes him feel so much better than before. 

Should he congratulate him? He should, shouldn’t he? But the conversation in the group chat has already moved on to something different… It’d be awkward just to write ‘Congrats!’ out of nowhere.. He thinks for a minute and then decides to write privately.

[DRAFT] Hi Richie! Congrats! 

[DRAFT] Congrats with getting booked!

_Why is he so bad at this?_

[10:53AM] YOU: Hey Richie! Congrats on getting booked, sorry it took me a while to reply, I’m at work.

The response is almost immediate. 

[10:59AM] Richie: i knew youd come around eddie spaghetti! thanks!!!! youre gonna be there right ?? i have a ticket with your name on it!!!

Ah, of course Richie would want him to join. The rest of the losers were going to be there, too. 

[11:05PM] Yeah, I’ll come see you :) 

He confirms, and isn’t expecting a reply back. The conversation had naturally drawn to a close and he was fine with that. 

[11:09PM] Richie: also,, are you doing ok? 

_He has to ask_ , Eddie tells himself. It’s common courtesy. 

[11:11PM] YOU: I’m doing fine. Sorry for my outburst yesterday. 

[11:17PM] Richie: im not worried about yesterday i just care about you yknow

Eddie doesn’t know what to reply. He stares at his phone screen for an embarrassing amount of time before typing in whatever thought comes up first.

[11:35PM] YOU: I’m doing fine, there’s just a lot happening right now. I don’t mean to be a bother.

[11:38PM] Richie: venting ur feelings isnt ‘being a bother’ eds

[11:40PM] Richie: i know u havent known the losers very long but we all care about you A Lot, you can come to any of us if youre having trouble or need a shoulder to cry on

[11:42PM] Richie: anyway enough of me being sentimental and serious. 

[11:43PM] Richie: what do u call a fish with no i’s?

[11:45PM] YOU: a fsh?

[11:46PM] Richie: SHIT that joke doesnt work over text. 

Eddie smiles to himself and spends the next 30 minutes goofing around on his phone until his supervisor catches him and he promptly returns to his work. He’s about to go on his lunch break when he receives a call from the front desk, informing him someone had come to visit him. He wonders for a minute who it could be, but it doesn’t take long for him to figure it out. As the elevator doors open his worry is confirmed as Myra stands waiting for him.

_What is she doing here?_

“Myra I- What are you doing at my job?”

“I just thought I’d have lunch with my husband, we could plan what destinations we’d pick out-”

“For what?”

“For the cruise. Jeez, Eddie you’re so forgetful.” She says playfully. “You should get that checked out, though, it’s concerning.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Myra-” He pauses. “You can’t just show up at my job unannounced.”

“I was just trying to give you a surprise. Is that so horrible of me?”

“No- I mean-” He fumbles for his words but is interrupted when Myra blurts out:

“All I do I do for you, don’t you know?” 

“I know.” He’s lying through his teeth but Myra smiles anyway and tugs on his arm. “Let’s have lunch, then, I brought some travel-catalogues-”

“Could we actually head home to eat instead?” Eddie suggests, he can’t do it here. 

“Oh you want me to cook for you? Eddie-bear, you could’ve just asked.” 

“Sure.” 

Eddie takes an early leave that day. Myra and him head back home. 

Myra is talking about something in the car ride home but Eddie isn’t listening. His thoughts are too loud and once again he’s gripping the steering wheel too tightly. 

  
  


Eddie is unlocking the door to their home when Myra eventually speaks something he can hear: 

“Eddie, where’s your ring?” She asks, pushing past him and moving into the house. “Did you lose it? It’s expensive, y’know. So careless you are, really. Now we have to take it out of your next paycheck-” She’s ranting as she walks through the foyer and into the living room, 

“I think we should get a divorce.” He says, standing steadfast in the middle of the living room. Bluntly, honestly. He’s ripping off the bandaid, and by God it hurts. 

“Don’t joke about something like that, Eddie, it’s not proper.” She dismisses him and moves into the kitchen.

She’s not getting it. 

“What do you want to eat-”

_She’s just not fucking getting it. She’s not going to understand, she’s not going to be better._

“I think we should get a divorce!” He snaps. 

Her reaction is instant, and it hits hard. It hurts Eddie in a place where he hasn’t felt anything in years. 

He blinks, and suddenly he’s 12 years old again, his mother standing between him and the front door. It had just begun snowing outside and he wanted to make snow angels with the kids down the street. 

“You can’t go, Eddie, you’re gonna get sick. It’s much too cold.”

“But ma-”

“No buts, young man, you’re still getting over your past sickness, remember? Do you want to get sick again?”

“No, mamma.”

“That’s a good boy.”

He blinks and he’s back in his living room. Myra is sobbing. “Why would you do that to me? I’ve done so much for you! I help you, Eddie. I love you so much baby.”

Eddie’s body is frozen solid, for a moment he’s almost walking over to comfort Myra. But something in him is pulling him somewhere else. He’s moving to his bedroom, grabbing the first suitcase he finds, and stuffing whatever clothing is available down into it, he opens his bedside drawer and stuff his passport and other essentials. Myra is still crying when he moves into the bathroom and empties his medicine cabinet, grabbing Anacin, Excedrin P.M, Contac, Gelusil, Tylenol and his vitamins. The suitcase isn’t even properly closed as he stands in the living room again, fully packed. There’s only about 5 feet between him and Myra and he doesn’t know what to say. 

This is his big moment. The one he sees in film. 

  
  


And he doesn’t say anything.

He leaves his home without a word, not knowing what to do. Usually in movies this was the grand point-of-no-return, and he knows this is his. But what happens after this? He can’t exactly cut to a point in the future where he has everything figured out. 

He walks half a block down the street and on a whim decides to hail the first cab he can get. 

“Where to?”

“Can you just drive around for a bit?”

He sees the taxi driver blink in the rearview mirror. “Sure man, meters running, though.” 

“That’s fine.”

Eddie spends the next few hours walking around New York City, distracting himself with the immense scenery he never really bothered looking at, with how grand everything is and with how strange he feels. It’s a good kind of strange, it’s a feeling he can’t quite place. He hasn’t ever felt like this before. 

He comes down from his high eventually while sitting on a park bench. He feels stupid. He’s really fucked everything up for himself, hasn’t he? He should’ve thought this through. He’s acting like a spoiled child, he thinks to himself. He’s sure he has enough money to go stay at a hotel, but that’s not a viable long-term option. 

He thinks back to back when he visited Bill.

_“You do know you can crash here if you need to?”_

_No, he’s just saying that to be nice, don’t impose on him._

_He didn’t really mean it._

With shame coating his fingertips he dials up Bills phone anyway, reaching a standardized voicemail. He’s quiet for a few moments, not quite knowing what to say. He lets the voicemail recording run for a few seconds before he hangs up without a word. With a sigh Eddie leans over on the bench and buries his face in his hands. He’s about to instinctively let out a groan as he hears a familiar voice approach him.

“Eddie!” 

He looks up, it’s Beverly, currently walking a very energetic Border Collie. She struggles to keep the dog from jumping up and down around Eddie as she approaches him and offers him a hug. He gets up from the bench and gladly accepts it, reveling in the short seconds that it lasts. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry about her, she loves meeting new people.” She explains. “Nevermind that, how are you?” She asks. 

“Uh- Just getting some fresh air.” Eddie says, like a liar. 

“I see.” She nods. “Well, Eddie, this is Luna. Luna sit.” Eddie watches as the dog proudly sits still on the ground, its tail wagging on overtime. “Good girl!” She says and turns to look at Eddie again. “She has so much energy, a stroll through Central Park with her goes by unnaturally quickly.” Masterfully she manages to pull out a pack of Marlboro Reds and light a cigarette with her one free hand. She sits down on the bench next to Eddie.

“What’s the suitcase for?” 

_She doesn’t care, don’t bother her with your troubles._

“Uh, dry cleaners.”

“I see..” She takes a drag from the cigarette and continues: “Did you see about Richie getting booked on Saturday?”

“Yeah, I did. It’s great, I’m happy for him.”

“Me too! You’re coming right? I’m pretty sure Richie would love to have you there.”

“Yeah, I’m tagging along with you guys, if it’s not too much trouble. I don’t wanna stress Richie out or anything.”

“You? Trouble? Eds, Richie talks about you non-stop. It’s crazy. I think he’d be stressed out if _weren’t_ there.” Bev laughs under her breath. “Not to make you feel forced into coming or anything.” She explains and gestures to him with her free hand.

_She’s so nice,_ Eddie thinks. _She barely knows him and still is so nice. He doesn’t deserve this._

“Where are you heading now?” She asks, eyes big. 

“Uh, nowhere really.” He says, it isn’t really a lie.

“Wait- You’re coming to dinner tonight, right?”

“Dinner?”  
  


“We’re having dinner at me and Ben’s house to celebrate Richie getting booked, didn’t you see?”

“Uh no I-” Eddie pulls out his phone and checks through the messages sent in the group chat, and sure enough there’s a bunch of talk of plans to have dinner together again that same evening. “Yeah I’ll- I’ll be there.”

“Well if you’re heading _‘nowhere’-_ ” Bev starts, taking one last drag of her cigarette and throwing it into the public ashtray next to the bench. “Then you can just tag along with me home. You can help chop the vegetables before everyone arrives.” She suggests with a smile on her lip, and Eddie immediately feels like he would eat sand if she asked him to. In a good way, though. There’s something about Beverly’s vibe that just makes you want to hand her the entire world.

“Sure.” He agrees with a smile on his face and the two get up from the park bench, Luna running excitedly in front of them, eager to keep moving. 

\--

A few miles out of the centre of the city, in the part of town where every kid within a three-mile radius goes trick-or-treating every year, where there’s still a lingering scent of fresh paint and cars that look like they cost more than Eddie’s yearly salary (and Eddie makes a comfortable living), live Ben and Beverly Hanscom-Marsh. Their home is obviously newly constructed and, to Eddie, it looks like something out of Scarface, or any other mob-movie for that matter. It’s luxurious in a way that he had no idea how to explain; a pure status symbol, if anyone other than Beverly and Ben lived in it, that is. Even though Eddie lives - no, lived - in a townhouse in the heart of NYC, he’s still intimidated. 

It looks like a home, though, and that’s comforting.

“Here we are,” Bev takes a deep breath of fresh air and steps out into the spacious front yard, letting Luna run free with the energy of… well a dog in a large front yard, to be on the nose about it. She shuts the large gate behind them with a: “Don’t be intimidated, it’s quite small on the inside.” Eddie thinks that’s too late.

The inside of the Hanscom-Marsh home is exactly like he expected; grand, and Eddie is sure an alarm will go off if he takes one wrong step. A scent of cinnamon and honey hits him as he enters through a large hallway. To his right is their living room that, from what he can tell, is loaded with plants of all kinds, all situated around a big window overlooking a part of the yard he couldn’t see from outside. He manages to spot a bordeaux couch, and black marble coffee table on top of a fuzzy cream blanket before he’s passed the large open doorway.

Eddie follows after Bev like a duckling, trying to take in as much of the interior decorating as possible, a door is open to a room with fabric and paper scattered all around the floor. Bev must have noticed him looking because she immediately says: “That’s my office, kind of a mess I know. Looks like-” 

“Richie’s room.” Eddie finishes. Beverly sends him a smile. “Exactly.”

  
  


Ben is already in the combined kitchen-dining room and his eyes light up when he spots Bev walking into the kitchen, Eddie follows suit and enters right after Bev and Ben is surprised but obviously happy to see him. 

Eddie feels humbled.

“Eddie! Hi buddy, you’re early!” Ben states, moving to wash his hands before going to greet Eddie with a hug and Bev with a kiss. 

“Yeah, I hope it isn’t too much trouble.”

Bev looks almost offended that he dare imply that. “We ran into each other in Central Park while I was walking Luna.” She looks back and gestures to Eddie, seemingly spotting the suitcase he was still carrying around. “Oh gosh, Eds, let me get that for you.” She insists, and Eddie can’t bring himself to say no. He hands over the suitcase to her and she. “Sorry, we should’ve dropped that off at your place before heading here, shouldn’t we?”

“Oh no.. that’s fine.” Eddie says and though it’s only four words Bev seems to understand what lies behind them completely. Because she moves towards him, and offers him a half hug as she passes by and into the hallway to drop off his suitcase in a room he can’t see from the kitchen. He stands in his own thoughts for a moment before spotting Ben trying to say something to him. 

“What? Sorry.”

“You wanna help out, buddy?” He offers, and Eddie sends a smile his way and the smaller moves into the kitchen. 

“You sure you trust me with knives?”

Ben gives him a look.

“Not anymore. I’ll take my chances, though.”

  
  


Eddie isn’t particularly great in a kitchen if he’s being honest with himself, it’s a slow realization- like always thinking your singing wasn’t _that_ bad, but then you listen back to a recording of yourself and swear to never sing again. And then you sing anyway, because the pull is too great and the joy it brings you is grander than whatever shame you feel from not being able to hit a flat C. Myra usually did most of the cooking, not trusting Eddie in the kitchen, so he hadn’t ever had the chance to learn properly. 

Ben, however, seems to belong in the kitchen.He seems so confident, so sure of himself. He knows where everything goes and has no problem balancing whatever food he was preparing with guiding Eddie along at his own pace, on top of carrying a conversation with Bev who is currently sitting on one of their barstools and having a glass of wine. 

_God I wish that were me,_ Eddie thinks to himself. 

\--

The Hanscom-Marsh home is mostly quiet, but that changes when people start arriving: Mike and Bill arrive first and it isn’t more than 5 minutes after that when Stanley, Patty and Rich arrive. 

“Eddie! We didn’t think you’d show.” Stanley says as they greet each other in the hallway, he’s wearing thinly framed semi-round glasses that Eddie hasn’t seen him wearing before. Stan and Patty are matching, both dressed in a burgundy red cardigan on top of a black turtleneck. 

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to reply.” Eddie admits, it’s only a half-lie.

“We’re glad you’re here, though.” Patty adds, giving him a friendly shoulder pat. 

“Yeah.. me too.” Eddie smiles at the two before they move from the hallway into the dining room. Only Richie and Eddie are left in the hallway and they send each other awkward smiles in an attempt to stay formal in such a grand and fancy home, they stay like that for 10 seconds before giving in to instinct and hugging each other. 

Eddie _really_ likes hugs.

They don’t even need to greet each other at this point.

“Congrats, Rich. Opening act at The Mercury Theatre? That’s amazing. I’m really happy for you.” 

“Oh my god, don’t remind me, I’ll puke.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. I puke when I get nervous or overwhelmed.”

“Holy shit, that’s disgusting.”

“I know.” Richie laughs. They share eye contact for a brief moment before awkwardly getting pulled out of it by the clinking of a spoon against a glass and Beverly’s voice calling from the dining room. 

“Come on Rich! You’re the reason we’re here!”

“Don’t blackmail me!” Richie responds with another laugh and the two move in to sit at the large dining table, made up all fancy-like, Eddie feels like he’s at a michelin restaurant.

He looks over the table, at all these people whom he didn’t know less than a month ago, and feels a sense of familiarity sweep over him. These people were familiar to him, like the lyrics to a song you hadn’t heard in years but still knew every word to. Like a movie you’ve seen over and over again and never get bored of. He feels like he’s spent his entire life in their company, and yet, not. 

Because soon enough, it becomes overwhelming and Eddie has to leave the table. He gets up and can’t muster up enough energy to even ask directions to the bathroom in this immensely large house. Everyone else is too preoccupied in whatever conversation they’re having currently to question Eddie leaving, and he doesn’t really mind. 

  
  


He doesn’t manage to find the bathroom, instead he sits down in the living room, sinking into the soft velvet couch and letting his body become free of any tension; he’s thinking back to his high school prom. 

The teachers had made the seating charts for the dinner, and he had ended up seated at a table with people he didn’t know. The table where the losers were placed, the people who didn’t have anyone else, the people who were there because they didn’t want to miss out on the experience of going to prom, even if their experience never compared to the one they see in film. 

The girl Eddie had taken to prom had been one of those people, Barbara Moore was her name. It felt natural, going with her, they were doing work together on a group project around the time promposals were happening. She’d asked who he was taking for prom and he told her he didn’t have anyone in mind. “Me neither.” She said and then asked: “Should we go together?” And Eddie responded with a nod and then it was settled.

They didn’t particularly like each other, they barely knew the others name when they went, but they felt some solace in having that night together. Barbara had bought her own corsage, and Eddie doesn’t remember anything about how she looked other than the fact that her dress was blue.

Sonia had been ecstatic to see Eddie bring home a girl and had told him that she was a real pretty girl, and a catch. Barbara’s parents had reacted the same. They didn’t talk on the ride to prom, and when they were seated at the table they didn’t talk either. But there was always some type of unity among losers. 

You had each other, and even if you had nothing else in common that was enough for most people. 

It was just before dessert was served when Barbara told him that she was heading home, he had told her it was fine. In an act of rebellion he ate dessert for two and sat with an empty seat next to him for the rest of the evening. 

Eddie thinks that it’s a nice memory, he has an odd sense of nostalgia and he feels ready to head back. He walks down the hall and stands in the doorway leading to the dining room. He spends a moment to glance into it, at his friends, at a dining room full of life, the kind of life you’d see in commercials. The kind that always looks and feels artificial. But not with the losers. Love fills everyones cup, spills over, and Eddie feels like he can drown in it - no, like he wants to drown in it. Just for this moment.

He rejoins the table and joins in on the conversation. 

  
  


\---

Its three hours and 700 wedding plus honeymoon pictures later when Richie is semi-drunk and cuddled up with Luna (as well as Bev and Ben, but that’s not as important) on the couch in the living room. He’s telling some story in some funny voice that Eddie isn’t really paying attention to when Bill pulls him aside and into the hallway. Richie is sad to see Eddie leave for ‘the good part’ but quickly refocuses his attention on getting the remaining losers attention.

Bill hesitates a bit before speaking, as if wondering if he’s stepping into dangerous territory. Eddie wonders what’s on his mind. 

“Y-y-your ring…”

_Oh._

_Yeah._

_That was a thing._

A wave of emotions rush over Eddie as he relives probably the most emotionally taxing day of the past 10 years. Bill seems to be able to tell instantly and he quickly adds in a: “S-sorry if it’s n-not my place to ask I just- worry, yo-you know?” 

“Yeah.. Yeah.” Eddie nods weakly. “You didn’t get my voicemail? I uh, actually wanted to ask if- and it’s totally fine if you’ve changed your mind I just thought I’d ask-”

“You can c-crash with me, Eddie, d-dont worry.” Bill smiles.

“Are you sure? I can totally just get a hotel room or something.”

Bill shakes his head and pats Eddie’s back. “It’s fine, Eddie. Really.” Eddie nods hesitantly with a: “Thank you, Bill.” 

“No problem. Are you okay?”

“I’m great.” He feels like he means it.

They rejoin the others, paying full attention to whatever story Richie is telling them now.

  
  


\--

They all leave as a group around midnight and the moment they step outside they notice the ground is still slightly wet from a brief pour of rain an hour earlier. Eddie is walking alongside Bill and Mike, and Richie, Stan and Patty are walking a few feet behind them as they make it to the main road where their Ubers are supposed to pick them up. Eddie can idly hear Richie rambling to Stan and Patty in the background about how much he already misses Luna and that he loves them so much and that he’s so happy they’re friends. The rambling comes to a halt when Rich loudly exclaims: “HOLY SHIT! EDDIE!” 

It startles Eddie, who jumps a little bit and turns to face Richie, who’s currently crouched down on the asphalt, looking like a child on Christmas morning. A small, dark green frog is sitting completely still on the ground.

“It’s a frog! Lookithim!” He mumbles with excitement, and Stanley has by now also crouched down to look at the frog. He cups his hands together around the confused little creature and he picks it up. Eddie is mortified by the amount of germs that are definitely on it, but let’s Richie have this. The bespectacled comedian carries the frog, still as it is, into a patch of grass and lets it hop off of his hand and into the wilderness of uptown New York. “Wow.” He says, looking after it. 

“Poor frog, I don’t think you’re supposed to pick them up, Rich.” Stanley butts in and Richie huffs in response. “You never let me have anything, Staniel. I hate you.” He says, but Eddie can tell he doesn’t mean it. 

Soon enough their Ubers arrive, they say their goodbyes and “See you on Saturday”s. Eddie shares an Uber with Bill, obviously, but Mike gets into it, too. Eddie isn’t stupid, though, so he doesn’t comment on it. He supposes Bill has already told Mike that he’s crashing with them for a bit, because Mike says nothing either when they all get off at the same apartment complex. 

The three enter Bill’s apartment at roughly 12:40AM, and it’s surprisingly clean compared to last time Eddie was there. Mike is telling the two about a collection of letters from the 1800’s he’s recently read, and Bill is listening like a kid in church after their mom bribed them with candy to pay attention, except this is with genuine interest instead of candy-motivated attentiveness. 

Mike and Eddie settle down on the couch while Bill makes the tea for all of them.

_This is nice,_ Eddie thinks to himself. He wishes this feeling could last for longer than its usually did for him. 

Mike and Bill head to bed not long after they finish their cups of tea, they say goodnight and Eddie says he’s gonna stay up for a little longer. He walks around the apartment, taking deep breaths and trying to make sense of the day. When he rationally tries thinking about it, it’s a lot. He doesn’t even know where to start even just _trying_ to think about it

He paces around the guest room and takes a moment to take in his surroundings: there’s a bed, a bedside table with a lamp on it, a view into the street and not much else except for a ton of boxes shoved into a corner- probably for storage. He vaguely remembers Bill mentioning he wanted to rent out his extra room when he first moved here, and he did so for a while- but now that his little brother is coming to NYC to study, he wants to keep it unoccupied in case he needs it. Eddie figured he kind of ruined that option for him, though. He lays down on the floor and looks up at the ceiling. It’s plain, empty, and Eddie thinks: _Me too._

He doesn’t keep track of how long he lets himself lie on the floor, he thinks it might be 30 minutes, but it might also be an hour. He gets up eventually and he doesn’t feel much better than before, but he revels in the fact that the worst part is most likely over. He ripped off the bandaid, but the wound underneath is still gushing. 

  
  


He doesn’t unpack properly, instead he lets his suitcase lay splayed open on the floor; he had initially done the same thing on his and Myra’s honeymoon. They were staying for 2 full weeks at the same hotel, but unpacking felt like a commitment- a commitment that was somehow bigger than the actual act of marriage. 

Myra had complained, said: “It looks messy! It’s so big, too, what if you trip over it? It’s right next to a window, you would hit your head and get a concussion at the very least! Or you’d fall right through and out the window. Oh, Eddie, I can’t bear thinking about you getting hurt.” 

She’d spoken with a softness in her voice polluted by dominance, authority, and a certainty he’d known for many years longer than he’d known Myra. Eddie had unpacked his suitcase right after that, with no complaints. 

And now he’s in a guest room in Bill’s apartment, staring down into his open suitcase and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He takes a few sharp breaths and takes a moment to collect himself before it all comes crashing down again. He crouches over on the floor, and feels a tear he didn’t know was coming run down his cheek. Then another, and another. Until he’s silently crying in the floor, shaking with pent-up frustration worth several lifetimes. He holds himself and he doesn’t know how much time has passed before he stands back up. The sun is peeking over the horizon littered by sky-scrapers and other expensive buildings. God, his mom would’ve hated this for him.

He lets himself collapse onto the bed. He doesn’t even have the energy to change his clothing.

Eddie Kaspbrak gets a full night of dreamless rest that night, and it’s the best sleep he’s had in years.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you can! its really the biggest motivator for me to get feedback from the people reading! it means the world to me.
> 
> you can also send me ur thoughts on my curiouscat if you want to remain anon! https://curiouscat.me/dansk_javlen


	4. call me friend but keep me closer

1

The next few days go by with Eddie feeling somewhat sedated, his existence is quieter than it has been in years. He wakes up in Bill’s guest room, goes to work, goes back to Bill’s apartment, eats dinner, stares at unfilled application for divorce papers for a few hours then goes back to sleep. He does this for 5 days.

_ Turns out, getting a divorce is harder than it looks in movies. _

But nothing is gonna happen if he doesn’t fill out his own form first. It feels intimidating, though. The title font is big, bold and harsh, it’s accusing him of something. He thinks it’s all too much, it’s too complicated a process, anyway. 

One year mandatory separation before they can get legally divorced? And what the hell does he fill out for ‘grounds’? ‘I married an exact copy of my mother.’ Equal division of property? He doesn’t need that. He doesn’t think he could ever live another day in that townhouse he bought with Myra. He supposes he would like his car, but that’s it. That’s everything.

His eyes glance over the paper, landing on a particular sentence: _‘If your grounds is adultery you can proceed directly to the conditions for a divorce without a mandatory one-year separation.’_

He thinks for a moment. 

_ No, he can’t. That’s not fair to Myra.  _

_ Then again, she did cheat on him. She admitted it.  _

He thinks again, and gets up from his seat. He paces around his (guest) room before sitting down and filling it out. Every word written with his pen physically hurts him, but the second he finishes he’s never felt more free. 

In front of him is a paper filled with tons of information, his full name, social security number, address, but most important of all are four words that read:

‘Grounds for divorce: Adultery.’

  
  


\--

It’s Saturday and all of the Losers have gathered at the theatre an hour before showtime to get some time to chat and hang out with Richie before he has to go backstage. Mike and Bill announced that they were officially dating now, and had been for about a week. 

“Oh, after we left the Jade of the Orient?” Bev asks with a wink. “I thought it was suspicious you left within 5 minutes of each other.” 

Mike blushes and coughs. “Yeah, well, we didn’t wanna tell you guys right away. This is very new to us both.”

“Aww, guys I’m really happy for you!” Bev says and pulls the two into a hug. 

“Can I call you guys ‘Bike’?” Richie asks and the question raises a few eyebrows.

“Bike?” Bill questions.

“It’s a combination of your names. Bill and Mike.” Stan explains, seemingly having gotten what Richie meant instantly. 

“I knew you’d get it, Stan! We vibe so well.” Richie exclaims in excitement and Stanley shakes his head.

“No, you may not call us ‘Bike’,” Mike responds, firmly.

“N-no way.” Bill stresses. 

“You guys are no fun,” Richie sighs and looks at his watch. “Oh well, I have to go back now. Stick around until after the show, OK? I have a surprise planned for all of you.” He says playfully as he begins backing into the building.

  
“No way man, we’re gonna leave mid-way through.” Bev says, not quite yelling as Richie gets further and further away. 

“You’re too cruel to me.” Richie replies and blows a kiss in their general direction as he enters the building and closes the door. The remaining Losers continue their small-talk.

\--

The theatre is grand, it’s an architectural marvel to behold and the second they enter properly, Ben is all over it. His phone is out instantly and he’s snapping pictures of everything to look at later. Bev is the one in charge of their tickets, and they’ve gotten fairly nice seats, not first row or anything, but still a practical view. They’re all seated next to each other, and Eddie half-expects everyone to sit next to their partners, though that doesn’t happen. The Losers mix up their seating, Ben and Stan are next to each other, who are next to Bev and Mike, who are next to Bill and Patty who are next to Eddie. 

Ben insists that they all get a picture together to commemorate the big day, and they all comply. They get an employee to take it for them and Eddie doesn’t get the chance to look at the picture before it’s been sent in the groupchat. 

[7:20PM] Ben: [ ONE IMAGE ATTACHED ]

[7:20PM] Ben: Break a leg, Rich! <3

There’s no response from Richie so everyone else falls into small-talk and Eddie just sits quietly by himself for a bit. The others seem to get him.

It’s about 20 minutes before the start of the show when he gets a text:

[7:39PM] Richie: hey hey eds

[7:40PM] Richie: can you come backstage

[7:40PM] Richie: i told the security guy ur name just pop on in please

[7:41PM] Richie: I Would Like To See A Friendly Face :) 

He can’t say no. Not that he wants to. Plus, the use of capitalization of every word definitely means that something is up.

[7:42PM] YOU: Should I bring the others?

[7:43PM] Richie: no way, ill get too nervous

Eddie doesn’t know why Richie wants  _ him _ of all people, Stanley is his best friend, he’s said it himself. He complies, though. Some part of him also knows he just also kind of  _ wants _ to see Richie. 

[7:44PM] YOU: OK, I’m on my way. 

With a: “Be right back guys.” He gets up from his seat and heads towards the first door he can see that’s labeled: ‘Staff only’. As Richie said, he’s let in and directly gets pointed in the direction of a small dressing room where Richie is currently sitting in front of a mirror with those old-school Hollywood lights on the side. When he spots him, Richie immediately gets out of his seat and runs to hug Eddie.

“Eddie! Thank God you’re here. Is there a lot of people?” 

“It looks sold out-”

“No! You can’t tell me that.”

“You asked! What was I supposed to do? Lie?”

Richie hesitates for a moment. “I hate it when you’re right.” He sighs and it’s clear to Eddie that he’s nervous.

“You doing okay, Rich?”   
  


“Yeah- yeah I’m doing fi-” Richie seems to be suppressing something in his voice that makes itself evident when he leans over in front of the trashcan and vomits into it. 

“Holy shit!” Eddie instinctually takes a step back.

“I’m fine- I’m doing-” He spits into the trashcan a couple of times before looking up at Eddie. “I’m fine.” Some part of him isn’t really convinced.

“Do you need some water?”

“Just a bourbon and a mint.” Richie states with no hesitation. “I don’t think I can get you that, you’re on in, like ten-” Within a few seconds the door to the dressing room is opened and a busy-looking assistant has arrived with a glass of bourbon whiskey and a pack of mints, they place it on the table in front of Richie and leave immediately after.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asks in genuine confusion, how could anyone have overheard that?

“I have no idea. Sure was fast, though.” Richie shrugs and downs the whiskey in one go. 

There’s a call over the loudspeaker: “Ten minutes till start.” and suddenly Richie gets serious to a point that Eddie hasn’t seen before. The two share eye contact and he speaks, without sounding like he has any doubts at all:

  
“Don’t laugh if you don’t think I’m funny.”

“What?” Eddie doesn’t understand.

“I’m serious. If I’m shit at this I need you to tell me.”

“Richie. I’m sure you’re not shit.”

“But if I am-”

“I’ll tell you.” He reassures. 

“Thank you.”

The same assistant as before comes in and informs Eddie that he can’t be backstage for any longer. He hugs Richie goodbye rejoins the Losers and waits for the next 5 minutes until the show starts.

\--

Though Richie enters the stage with an applause from the audience, Stan and Bev cheer the loudest of everyone in the entire theatre. The nervousness Eddie had seen backstage is completely gone (he doesn't know whether it's the glass of whiskey Richie had just downed or something entirely different; either way, Richie looks comfortable on that stage). 

“Thanks so much, you know, I know opening acts usually suck, you’re not here for this rando; you’re here for the person whose name is on the marquee. And that’s fair.” He starts. “Imagine you’re a painter, right? And you work for years and years on this one particular painting. And you step back and look at it and you’re actually pretty proud of it- This looks great, all your work has paid off and you can finally rest after tiresome years of working. And then… that painting gets hung right across from the Mona Lisa.”

There’s laughter from most of the crowd after the punchline and Richie moves on with his set with a: “ _ That’s _ how I feel as an opening act. It’s tough to live up to! And what is it about art anyway...“ 

Eddie thinks to himself that laughter suits Richie. Not just laughter- everything about this suited him. Richie is completely in his element. This is where he belongs. 

Some of his jokes don’t land, but most of them do. It’s only a 10 minute set and when Richie waves goodbye to the audience with a: “Thank you so much, enjoy the person you’re actually here to see!” Eddie feels almost sentimental; proud, in a way. The hardest part about the next hour is having to wait until he gets to go backstage to congratulate Richie. 

\--

They all meet up backstage after the show, and Richie is already ready to go, he’s currently sipping a glass of whisky, and Eddie thinks that he looks classy- except this is Richie Tozier they’re talking about, so not at all.

They all congratulate him in their own way: Bill and Mike bring him a box of chocolates, Ben gives him a flask of champagne, Patty brings him flowers, Bev and Stan just hug him and Eddie just stands there for a moment. He really should’ve prepared something.

Richie pops open the champagne with a big cheer from the rest of the Losers.

“Did’ya like me Ed? How’d I look up there?” Richie approaches him before he’s ready, catches him off-guard and his go-to response is, unfortunately: 

“No.”

Richie laughs. “ _ ‘No’ _ ? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Eddie feels a faint blush creep across his face. That was so fucking embarrassing, holy shit. 

He doesn’t answer, but Richie pours him a glass of the champagne Ben brought, so he assumes it’s all good. They spend the next 20 or so minutes just chatting until Richie eventually clinks his glass and everyone in the dressing room goes quiet.

“This meeting of The Losers Club is officially in session. I have arrived to announce that I have booked us a table at the finest club in New York City.” He speaks with the tone of an overly dramatic shakespearean actor.

“By your standards or by actual review standards?” Stanley asks. 

“Shut your whore mouth, Staniel.” Richie says deadpan and he and Stanley stare at each other. Patty seems to be taken a back by the bluntness of his statement, but doesn't comment on it. 

Eddie begins worrying for a second, until both Stan and Rich break out into laughter. “I shall lead the way!” Richie finishes, grabbing his coat and flinging it over his shoulder in a dramatic fashion. “Meet me outside in 10! I still need to do some legal stuff here before we can go crazy.”

\--

Eddie stands alongside Bill as they wait outside the backstage door for Richie to show up. Everyone else is occupied in conversation except for the two, until Bill says: “You know we all care about you, right?” It’s out of the blue and he doesn’t know what lies behind the statement. 

He isn’t sure what he means, and responds with a raised brow- he doesn’t manage to verbally reply before Bill elaborates: “I think we all offer a lot of good for you but, I don’t think we can offer you everything you need.” His speech is slow, like he’s trying very hard to make sure he’s not going to stutter. “Have you considered going to a professional?”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say.

_ “Therapy is for people who aren’t right in the head”,  _ his mom’s voice echoes in his mind. “ _ You don’t need that.” _

“Isn’t-.. I don’t know, isn’t that a bit much?”

Bill stops dead in his tracks. “G-going to a therapist doesn’t make you weak, Eddie, p-please don’t think that.” 

Eddie blinks. “I mean yeah.. I don’t think it does it just-... It’s different with me, you know? I should be able to handle my own problems.”

“Everyone t-thinks it’s different with themselves. Y-you’re not weak, Eddie.”

Eddie has a hard time believing that. “I uh- I n-nearly lost my brother when we were b-both very young. I used t-to blame myself for it. S-sometimes it’s okay not being able to h-handle your own p-problems.” He watches as Bill reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his wallet, surfing through several business cards before pulling out a particular one and handing it to Eddie. He takes a moment to collect himself and speaks slowly again: “This is someone I got recommended awhile ago- I ended up choosing another person, though. So don’t worry about me knowing anything I shouldn’t know, if you do end up going to s-see her.”

Eddie cautiously accepts the business card and looks at it while Bill continues speaking: “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just-” He cuts himself off. “We all want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

Eddie has a hard time believing that.

But.. this feels like a start. He places the card in his own wallet and thanks Bill. 

Richie appears from the backstage door not soon after and they all head to the club picked out for them.

It’s only a 5 minute walk from the theatre and they claim their booked table right after entering. It’s obvious which table is theirs from the way it’s already prettied up for them, in a secluded part of the club with a sign spelling ‘RESERVED: TOZIER’ placed on it. Eddie feels 5 years too old to be here, but he puts aside that insecurity for now. 

The rest of the night come in parts for Eddie.

Like the part where Stan was up at the DJ booth begging the DJ to put on Africa by Toto while Bev and Rich are out on the dancefloor, dancing like their lives depended on it to Britney Spears. 

Or the part where he talks to Stan and Patty alone in the booth while everyone else is outside smoking. 

Or lastly, the part where Bill called it a night fairly early, Mike followed suit with a twinkle in his eye and the two went home together.

Eddie understands the metaphorical sock on the doorknob, and while the rest are getting ready to head home, Richie turns to him in confusion when he doesn’t get up from his seat at the booth. 

“You not going home, Spagheds?”

“No- I think I’ll just stick around here, Bill and Mike probably want some time off from having me creeping around the apartment.”

“No way! You’re not staying alone in this crusty-ass bar-”

  
“What do you mean ‘crusty-ass’? You picked it out!”

“That’s- Shut up!” Richie sits down across from Eddie. “I’m staying with you until you leave.” 

“Well, don’t lose your keys Richie, because I’m going home with Patty.” Stan says deadpan. 

“When have I ever lost my keys?” Eddie figures he means it as a rhetorical question, but it sure doesn’t sound like it, so Stan answers: “You’ve lost your keys 3 times and we have to replace the locks every time-”

“SHHHH” Richie cuts him off with an embarrassed smile and nervous laugh painting his face. “Shoo now.” He waves his arms at them in a ‘shooing’ gesture and with enough of a twinkle in his eye that Stan doesn’t take him seriously. They both wave goodbye to Stan, Patty, Bev and Ben. Richie turns back to Eddie right after the others leave the club.

“God, imagine if my 12 year old self could see me now? Just opened with my own set, in an actual theatre. I wouldn’t believe any part of tonight, I think.”

The DJ is playing some remix of Africa by Toto.

“We would’ve totally been best friends as kids.” Richie adds while reaching for his pack of cigarettes, even when he knows there’s no smoking inside. 

“No way. I don’t see it.” Eddie says with a laugh under his breath. “I would’ve hated your guts.”

“You’re so mean!! Yes way! What a bummer! You were probably a fuckin’ blast as a kid. Look at all this energy you have even now! You must’ve been unable to sit still, like a fuckin- uh- uhh-” Rich thinks for a comparison but his mind seems to draw a blank. “Anyway,  _ what a bummer  _ we didn’t know each other as kids! You were probably the fun-est kid on the block!” He repeats and Eddie nods in approval. He feels like he’s about to do something stupid.

He does. 

“My mom didn’t let me leave the house and made me believe that I had asthma when I was a perfectly healthy child.” He says, bluntly. He doesn’t know why.

Richie blinks and puts out his cigarette right after. “Jeez, Eds.”

“Yeah- and not only that, she made me believe I was sick, not only then, but all the time!” His tone is strange, it’s sarcastic, frustrated and he’s sure he’s never used it before in his life. 

Eddie thinks that a crowded club with Africa by Toto playing at an unholy volume probably wasn’t the best place to tell him this. He does, though, for a reason he can’t and won’t comprehend for a long time. 

“She’d convince me I had whatever illness was spreading around, she’d give me placebos, and then one day the girl working at the pharmacy told me they were fake and I didn’t even do anything I just- I just let her continue.” He’s barely stopping to catch his breath, it’s a lot- and unloading one part of the story just makes it harder to stop, even when he’s certain he’s scaring Richie off. “She’s been dead for six years, and I still carry around that stupid inhaler she cursed me with. I’ve never even had a fucking cold.”

Richie seems like he’s at a loss for words. The silence is beyond deafening.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.” Eddie backtracks, taking another sip of his beer. It’s now that he realizes that he hates the taste. He feels lighter though, like he can leave some part of him behind after tonight. 

“That’s fucked up, Eddie. I’m sorry.”

“It’s… It’s not that bad.”

_ He’s realized these past few days that it probably is, though.  _

“It is, though.” Richie states and they both fall into silence. 

Eddie thinks how melancholy the rest of the song sounds when heard right after saying all of that. Richie is, like always, the one to break the silence. He picks up where Eddie lacks, and that's what he likes about him. They balance each other out. Eddie thinks back to before, when Richie had said they’d been best friends had they known each other as kids. Eddie had said:  _ “No way”,  _ but some part of him knows the only reason he thinks that, is he doesn’t want to make himself feel like he’s missed out on more than he already has. 

They  _ definitely _ would’ve been best friends if they had known each other as kids. 

“Let’s go home. You can crash with me.” Richie offers. 

Eddie doesn’t object. 

\--

2

_ There’s something unspoken between them, something clandestine,  _ Richie realizes. 

These past few days, Eddie seems a lot happier. It’s a night and day transformation, to a problem Richie didn’t even know was present until now. Eddie seems a lot happier, yes, but sometimes he’ll go completely quiet and not hear anything being said to him. He’s listening, but he isn’t hearing. And when he catches himself doing that it only seems to make him more upset. 

He barely seems to register when it happens, like he just momentarily slips out of his body, like any essence of Eddie is just gone for a few minutes and something else replaces him.

That is until Richie realizes that the times when Eddie zones out, goes somewhere else mentally, are just another part of him. It’s as endearing as every other part of him.

He can’t believe how drawn he feels to Eddie, it’s almost unreal. He truly feels like they’ve known each other their entire life. 

When he thinks about Eddie, he thinks to when he’s going to be 70 years old, recounting his youth to his grandkids (if he even gets any). He’ll tell them about his childhood, about his time in Maine and his friends from Maine, and he’ll accidentally include Eddie in one of his stories, and it won’t feel out of place. That’s how he feels about Eddie. There’s either no other way or too many ways to describe it. It’s a specific feeling. Its comfort. It’s Eddie.

Eddie, who’s sitting next to him, reading a book that Richie had bought for Stan’s birthday a few years ago. The same year Stan had gotten Richie (and by extension, also himself) a robot vacuum cleaner for their apartment for his birthday. Stan deserves the entire world but Richie could only really afford a book on clearance at that point in time. Stan had appreciated it nonetheless, though. Stan had read through the book 3 times, and Richie was sure it wasn’t because it was a particularly good book. And now it was in Eddie’s hands, attentively flipping through the pages as he reads. It’s endearing how Eddie gets when he focuses like this. They’re sitting in a comfortable silence and Richie truly feels like they could stay like this forever and he wouldn’t mind at all. 

Eddie puts the book down for a moment and checks his phone. “It’s almost 2.”

“It sure is.” Richie replies. 

He knows he has a shift in the morning but he can’t bring himself to go to sleep yet. He watches as Eddie picks up the book again, only to shift through two pages and close it again, placing it on the couch. He turns to face Richie, pausing before speaking.

“You were really good tonight.” He pauses again, as if testing the waters. “On stage, I mean. You were great. Well, you’re also great normally I just- You know, I feel bad for not buying you a gift and then dumping all of my childhood trauma on you.”

“Was that  _ all _ your childhood trauma? Jeez, Eddie, buy a guy dinner first.” 

Eddie’s face flushes a faint red. 

_ Why did I say that. _

“Really though, Eds, don’t worry about it. I’m just happy you feel like you can vent to me.”

“Are you sure- I know it’s a lot.”

“Eds.” Richie says softly.

Eddie seems to understand what he means.

“I’m uh- I’m getting a divorce.” Eddie eventually confesses. Richie doesn’t want to lie and say he hadn’t noticed right away when he showed up to the dinner at Ben and Bev’s place with no ring. But it’s also very weird to just throw that out there. Sometimes lying is the better alternative.

“Oh really?” He feigns surprise. “Do I say congratulations in this scenario or is that inappropriate?”

Eddie laughs awkwardly under his breath. “You can say congratulations.”

“So what’s gonna happen now? You taking the house and the kids?”

“Shut up.” Eddie lets out a chuckle. “And I don’t know, I’m still waiting for a court summons. But that might take a while. The whole process is so complicated… If I knew how hard it is getting divorced, I would’ve never married Myra.”

“I mean, since you’re divorcing her now, that’s a given.” 

“You’re not funny.” Eddie says through laughter. By God, Richie feels like he could get high on his laugh. Eddie gets up from the couch to put the book back in its rightful place on the bookshelf underneath the TV. 

“I’m literally the funniest man in New York City.” 

“Oh yeah? Where’s your one-man show?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Richie grabs a pillow and throws it at Eddie, hitting him in the shoulder as he turns back around to face the couch. 

“Seriously?” Eddie’s tone is harsh, and his words hurt. “Throwing a pillow at me like we’re 12 years old?”

_ Shit _ .

Richie backtracks: “Sorry Eds, I-”

Eddie cuts him off when he can’t hold in his laughter anymore. “Your fucking face, Rich! Jesus Christ.” The relief he feels as Eddie picks up the pillow from the ground is unimaginable. He throws it back at Richie, hitting him square in the face, knocking his glasses against his nose. Richie responds with: “Ow, shit. Eddie you have a mean right hook.”

“That’s not the way to use the term ‘right hook’, Richie.” Eddie moves back to sit on the couch, this time having moved closer to where Richie is sitting. 

“Oh really? Since when were you a walking encyclopedia?”

“Since you decided to be a dumbass.”

“Fuck you.” Richie smiles and swings the pillow at Eddie again.

“Fuck you bro!” 

“Fuck youuu!”

They say through laughter and soon enough they’re both hitting each other with pillows like they’re kids again and it feels eerily familiar. It isn’t long before they’re both collapsed on the couch, catching their breaths. Their feet are touching and neither of them dare move an inch.

“Seriously what are we? 12?” Eddie speaks. “Pillow fighting... Jesus christ.” 

“By the way you’re trying to catch your breath I would think you’re 52, man.”

“I’m too tired to get up to punch you, but take my word for it that I would do it, had I been closer.”

“Shut up, you love me.”

Eddie is quiet for what feels like far too long. 

“Maybe so.”

Richie feels like he might combust. He gets ready for Eddie to break into laughter, to add in a:  _ ‘Just kidding!’. _

But he doesn’t

\-- 

Richie wakes up on the couch next to Eddie, their legs are tangled together and it feels too intimate. Richie panics and quickly gets up from the couch, waking up Eddie in the process. 

“Did you fall asleep on the couch?” Eddie asks, only half-awake. 

“No I didn’t.” Richie lies.

“You have your own bed and yet you sleep on the couch. You’re such an old man.” Eddie speaks as he sits up on the couch and looks in Richie’s direction as he gets ready for work.

“I’m literally 27.” Richie checks his phone and finds out he only has around 15 minutes before he has to leave. So he runs around the apartment frantically trying to locate his work uniform, which somehow always ends up lying on the floor in his room, in between all his other clothing and other stuff that finds its way onto his floor. 

“Your point?” Eddie snickers, and Richie peeks out from his room and throws a random shirt in Eddie’s direction. It doesn’t get close to hitting him. “What time is it?” Eddie asks with raised brows, brushing his fingers through his hair, trying to keep it as neat as possible. 

“Fifteen minutes until I have to be at work.” Richie is pulling his uniform over his head violently, and he thinks that it must look ridiculous. He runs to the bathroom, splashes his face with cold water and brushes his teeth. He’s sure he wouldn’t be able to manage to get ready in time but he manages. Adjusting his glasses, he walks into the living room again to face Eddie who’s still sitting on the couch. “You can go back to sleep again if you want.. Make yourself some breakfast.. Just lock the door when you leave.”

“Ah no- I’ll just go back to Bill’s place.”

“Stop being so modest, Eddie. You’re welcome here.”

Eddie’s expression tells Richie he has a hard time believing that. 

Richie approaches the other, and ruffles his hair, and Eddie fixes it right after with a pout on his face that makes him look like a puppy. “Really, though, just lock the door when you leave.” 

“Okay.” Eddie nods. 

“Anyway I’m literally supposed to be at work in 3 minutes so I’m really gonna go now.”

“Good idea.” Eddie reaches out and ruffles Richie’s hair in retaliation. They share a glance and Richie leaves for work.

  
  


3

Eddie makes three phone calls after Richie leaves. The first one is to his bank, in an effort to get his and Myra’s shared account split in two; so he doesn’t have to worry about his next paycheck going to her, effectively leaving him with no money. He finds out that he’ll need written consent from the co-owner of the account in order to do that. But the bank employee informs him that he can open up a new account in his own name to ensure his next paycheck goes to him and then split the accounts once he has written consent (Eddie is sure he won’t get it, but he’ll deal with that later). He thanks the bank employee for their help and hangs up. 

In a way he’s happy he’s alone in Stan and Richie’s apartment while on the phone. He loves Bill and he’s grateful that he gets to crash with him until further notice, but Bill is almost always home and he’d rather do this on his own. He needs to take these steps by himself. 

  
  


The second phone call he makes is to his work, informing them to send his next paycheck to his recently opened account. The front desk happily complies and changes his information and he thanks them for the help. Another ten pounds is lifted off of Eddie’s shoulders. 

The third phone call isn’t one he expects to make. For some reason he finds himself staring at the business card Bill had handed him the other day and slowly types in the number. His finger hovers over the ‘DIAL’ button, and he feels like it’s too much, too daunting. He’s about to put his phone back down and go about his day when his finger moves on its own and dials the number. He blinks, not quite sure how he feels about what’s about to happen, he holds the phone up to his ear, though and waits to see if a response comes.

It does. 

\--

Edward ‘Eddie’ Kaspbrak has his first therapy session three days later. It feels weird, he isn’t exactly sure what he’s looking to achieve from going (and it sure isn’t cheap, either). But the first trial session is free, and he has nothing to lose. 

But now he’s sitting in a chair, with a cup of herbal tea kindly offered to him by the woman currently sitting in front of him, and he feels like he’s making a grand mistake.

She introduces herself as Amber, she’s a woman in her mid-30s with messy blonde hair and round glasses. There’s a light speckle of freckles on the tip of her nose and all-around she gives off positive vibes. Yet something is still making him feel out of place here.

Spilling his feelings to a good friend is one thing, but to a complete stranger who’s literally paid to care about you? That’s different, he feels pathetic having to resort to this. He should be able to cope on his own like a grown man. Other people probably had it way worse than him, anyway-

“So, Edward, why are you here today? Is there anything you want to focus on or would you like to figure that out as we go?”

“I think.. The last one. Also just Eddie is fine.”

“Okay.” She nods, and adjusts her glasses. Eddie reaches to take a sip of his tea, he burns his tongue on it and quickly puts the mug back down again. 

“So, who are you?”

“Uhm- Eddie Kaspbrak.” He doesn’t quite understand the question. 

“No, not like that.  _ Who are you _ ?”

He thinks about it. What a weird question. He’s Eddie. That’s who he is. His brain is working overtime trying to think of a response. 

_ Who are you? _

He’s Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can’t speak a single word in response. He truly has no idea. 

“I-” He looks down at the mug and the sting of his burnt tongue seems to hurt just a bit more. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, Eddie.” Amber must’ve been more attentive than Eddie himself, because she’s offering him a kleenex before he even registers the first tear that runs down his cheek. He gladly accepts. 

“Are you okay to continue?” She asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine- Thank you.”

\--

  
  
  
  
  
  


The one hour seems to pass quicker than Eddie expects it to. He doesn’t have a chance to unload all of his trauma in the span of a single therapy session, the only real thing they manage to talk about is the obvious pressing issue of his marriage and now, divorce. He talks about Myra for a good amount of time, about how she’d provided him comfort in the first couple of years.

“She gave you comfort, but you didn’t love her?”

“I don’t think so. She just felt like my home, I think.”

“And what is home to you?”

He doesn’t want to answer that honestly. It’s shameful. It’s not like Eddie doesn’t know  _ why _ he married Myra. He doesn’t want to admit it, though. Maybe his home wasn’t exactly healthy for him, but dammit, it was a home nonetheless. 

_ He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realize a home is more than the place you grew up.  _

\--

“Thanks for today, Eddie. If you feel like this is something you’d like to continue with, you have my card.” Amber says after checking her wrist-watch. 

“Yeah- Thanks.” He means it a hundred percent. 

“Have a great day.”

“You- You too.” He musters out, his eyes are still puffy as he exits and he feels like an entirely new person. The air of autumn in New York City feels entirely too cold when it hits his face as Eddie steps out into the street. He manages to walk a few blocks on his way back to Bill’s apartment. There’s the usual sound of car horns, people yelling at each other, and street performers singing their hearts out. Eddie’s lived in NYC long enough that he’s managed to be able to drown most of the noise out. He can walk home with only his thoughts polluting his mind. 

He doesn’t walk back to Bill’s apartment, though, instead he finds himself in front of the entrance to Sunset/Sunrise- Richie’s place of work, where they first met each other. He hadn’t been here in a good amount of time, and he feels oddly sentimental when he steps in and sees Richie already busy with someone else’s order. The two share a glance, though, and Eddie finds his usual seat, waiting patiently for Richie to approach him.

“Eds! To what do I owe this honor?”

“Bold of you to assume I’m here for you. What if I’m just hungry?”

“You wound me every single day I’m alive.” Richie feigns sorrow, peeks over his shoulder into the kitchen before sitting down opposite of Eddie. “I’m really risking everything to chat with you, Eds. How’s your day been?”

“Oh my God- Stop breaking the rules. I’m not gonna be responsible if you get fired-”

“Live a little!” 

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. “You’re so stupid.”

“I actually graduated top of my class, straight A student right here.” He points to himself. 

“For a smart guy, you sure are a dumbass.” Eddie says with a grin on his face, and in response he feels Richie kick his shin underneath the table. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but it does catch him off guard. “Hey!” 

“What?” Richie raises both brows and pretends to not know what Eddie is referring to. They both know better, though. 

“You’re actually insufferable.”

“And yet here you are.”

Eddie admits defeat with a: “Touché.” 

\--

“When do you get off?” Eddie eventually asks as Richie checks up on him mid-meal.

“Jeez, Eds, I don’t know. When does your mom usually head to bed?” It seems Richie’s mouth is faster than his mind, and he shuts up right after speaking. He seems to realize it might be dangerous territory. But in a way, it’s nice that Richie doesn’t treat him like he’s fragile. He can handle it. Eddie doesn’t want to fuel Richie’s ego, but he does catch himself letting out a small chuckle. 

“I meant when do you finish work, asshole.” 

“I get off in exactly...” He speaks, pulling out his phone and glancing at it quickly. “..36 minutes. Why? You wanna take me out?” 

“Why are you like this?” Eddie’s cheeks flush red at the proposal. He takes a sip of his drink and looks away from Richie and out into the street. It’s raining. 

“You know you love it, Eddie Spaghetti.”

\--

The two walk back together, soaked from the rain as they enter Richie and Stan’s apartment building (normally Eddie brings umbrellas with him when the forecasts promise rain, but nothing had been mentioned about rain at all when he checked earlier that morning, plus when can you ever truly trust weather forecasts?). Stanley is home for a change, sitting in the living room on his phone with the biggest smile on his face. He glances up at the two as they enter, he does a double take and sends a smile in Eddie’s direction as he spots the smaller man. Eddie sends a smile back.

“Eddie! Hey! How are you?” 

“I don’t get a greeting?” Richie exclaims in retaliation as he shrugs off his coat and enters the apartment.

“I’m fine Stan. Hope it’s okay I’m imposing on you guys yet again.”

“You’re never imposing, Eddie.” Stanley says, and Eddie’s heart seems to melt for a brief second. 

“Who are you texting Staniel? Do you have a crush?” Richie throws himself onto the couch and reaches for Stan’s phone. 

“Shut the fuck up, Rich. I’m texting Patty, you know this.”

“I can’t believe you’re cheating on me.. I thought we had something special.”

“Isn’t it enough for me to permanently live with you? How much attention do you need, you big baby?”

“All of it.”

“Okay, I’ll feed you like a mother bird, then.” 

“You’re so fucking weird. I take it back.”

“Thought so.” Stanley smirks and turns his attention back to his phone. “Now get off of the couch, you’re soaking wet.”

Eddie watches their exchange unfold with a smile on his lips and just a tad of jealousy that these two have known each other longer than they can remember. He’s happy for them, no doubt about it. But… what he wouldn’t have given to have had someone in his childhood that meant as much to him, as Stan did (and does) to Richie. 

He supposes there’s not much point in dwelling. Eddie didn’t like dwelling on things, anyway, it just served to overwhelm and frustrate him. He’d read on a sign in an independent coffee shop a few years ago that: ‘it’s pointless to worry about things that can’t be changed’, at the time he hadn’t known what it had to do with coffee, and even now he’s sure there’s no correlation between the two things, but sometimes he’ll think about it. He’ll tell himself to try and follow the advice. 

He very seldom does.

“You’re so mean to me Staniel.. But you’re right, we should get changed. Do you wanna borrow a sweatshirt or something, Spaghetti Man?”

Eddie frowns at the nickname but replies with a: “Sure.”

\--

A lot happens over the next couple of weeks, and almost all of it is equally important. 

Eddie returns to Amber a week after his first therapy session. She gets two stories from his childhood: The first story is of his father’s death and, while he hasn’t thought about it in years, it opens emotions within him that he doesn’t think he’s felt since he was a very young child. Eddie’s emotional core has been polluted by hesitation for the longest time, but something within him also screams sorrow, even if he’s kept the noise down for almost his entire life. 

Of course Eddie is sad about his father dying. How could he even doubt that? It’s just strange.. He feels numb, like his mother’s presence completely overshadowed whatever emotions he was supposed to let himself feel while grieving. Amber, once again, hands him a kleenex before he even realizes he’s crying.

The second story is about the part of his childhood he remembers most fondly: Running. 

Eddie could run like crazy, he was good at it, too. Always managed to sprint proudly down the schools field, controlling his breathing as to not risk an asthma attack. He didn’t know how he could be so sick when he outran almost everyone in his track and field class (when he managed to convince his teacher to let him run- lest his teacher get a scolding from his mom). But he trusted his mother, and found himself clinging to his inhaler as soon as he finished a sprint, even if he was only  _ slightly _ out of breath. 

He tells Amber about how he would watch the Olympics as a kid, with dedication like a proper sports-fan. He tells Amber about how he would wish he could be the one breaking all those world records, the one landing those jumps or even the kids who got to pick up the roses thrown onto the ice after the figure skaters finished their programs. 

But it couldn’t be him. 

It never could.

He put his hands in his pockets and feels that his inhaler is indeed still there in his left pocket, like always. It clings to him, even after all this time.

\--

The next thing that happens in the following weeks is that Eddie begins apartment hunting. It’d be at least another month until he has enough money saved up to pay for the deposit, but looking at what was available was always a start. Eddie browses through 4 different 1-bedroom apartments, all nice in their own right, but he can’t commit to any of them. It wasn’t because the placement of them were inconvenient, or that there wasn’t enough space for his things (not that he actually owned many things currently). They would all do fine as a place to live. But whenever he imagines going shopping for furniture, carrying it up here and placing it down and then: that’s it. This is going to be where he’s stuck. That’s going to be his furniture and this is going to be his home. 

It scares him enough that he doesn’t pick up any of the business cards belonging to the realtors representing the apartments.

\--

The next thing that happens is that Eddie gets a court summons. Normally this wouldn’t be anything to celebrate, but in his case, it is. Nothing is finalized yet, nor is it remotely close to being it, but it feels like a victory in its own right. Three weeks from now he’ll be standing in front of a divorce attorney and it’ll be the most freeing day of his entire life.

\--

Eddie also spends a lot of his free time with the ‘Losers’. Bev and him go jogging twice a week through central park, every Tuesday and Thursday (and every Thursday evening he goes home with Bev, where Ben and him collaborate in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the three of them. They all have a glass of wine and most of the time the food turns out good). 

When he’s at home in Bill’s apartment, it’s rare that he doesn’t see Mike there as well. The librarian has practically moved in at this point, more books have made it into Bill’s bookshelf, and the mess of papers that usually lie on the floor is no more. Bill isn’t a great cook- but Mike makes up for that and when they eat dinner together, all three of them. He doesn’t want to intrude on them any more than he already does, so when he hears Bill and Mike settle down for the night to watch a movie on the couch, Eddie quickly grabs a book and stays in the guest room for the rest of the night.

Stanley continues to teach him to do origami. Richie joins them sometimes, and one particular night he cuts out a piece of paper into the vague shape of a person, he grabs a marker, draws on a crude face and Stanley looks at him with tired eyes in response. Eddie is sitting with a (in his own words, beautiful) paper swan between his hands and he feels like he has to say something, and he does: “I hate him. What’s he supposed to be?”

“He’s just a little guy.”

“His face is mocking me. I don’t like him.” 

Eddie is sure that under normal circumstances, anyone else would find his statements annoying beyond measure. But something about Richie just makes Eddie want to push him just a bit more; test the limit. There’s an unspoken mutual sense of joking between the two, even if to others, they might seem deadly serious. 

“Well, you can’t just say you don’t like it. Think of it like a piece of art at the very least. Tell me why it doesn’t speak to you?” Richie adjusts his glasses and holds his chin high.

“Its ugly.” Eddie says bluntly.

Stanley laughs under his breath.

“You’re hurting his feelings! Look how sad you made him.” Richie exclaims and points to the face he’s half-heartedly drawn on the mangled piece of paper.

“His expression literally hasn’t changed at all!!”

\--

Eddie learns a lot of things from the Losers as time passes. Stan, Bev, Mike, Ben, Bill all teach him actual skills, things he can speak out loud, tell other people about. And then there’s Richie. Richie teaches him something entirely different, something he can’t put his finger on. Trying to describe how Eddie feels about Richie is complicated. 

It goes unsaid at this point, but he feels like he’s known him always, like they already know each other’s secrets better than anyone else. He loves all of the Losers, but he doesn’t think he’d let anyone push him the way Richie does. He doesn’t mind being pushed by Richie, because he gets to push back. He gets to take chances, not feel self conscious about everything he says, he doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around Richie, and when you come from a lifetime of walking on eggshells, it feels more freeing than summer vacation made you feel at age 8. 

Trying to put words to how Eddie feels about Richie is like asking someone to describe the color red: Sure, it’s easy enough to start with: it’s warm, it’s like fire, but it’s also the color of roses and strawberries, and a particularly beautiful sunset, but after that it becomes more abstract. Everyone  _ knows _ what red is and what it feels like. But what  _ is _ red? How do you describe it? And is the red you experience the same as the one everyone else experiences? 

They’re questions Eddie doesn’t want to begin digging into. Because he knows what red is. 

_ He knows well enough.  _

  
  


4

The nights Eddie doesn’t crash at Richie and Stan’s apartment, the two call each other. They usually check in with each other after Richie comes home from work (or before he clocks in- depending on when his shifts are). Sometimes it’s a 5 minute one-sided conversation of Richie testing a joke he thought of spur of the moment. Other times it’s an hour long conversation where they talk about whatever’s on their minds. They never talk on the phone longer than an hour, though, it’s almost like there’s an invisible wall whenever they get too comfortable (intimate is probably the better word, but Richie would feel guilty for using it). An hour is always the limit, most likely because Eddie always calls when he’s about to head to bed and he doesn’t want to stay up all night talking on the phone. Richie doesn’t blame him.

He knows he can be a handful, Richie isn’t exactly the easiest person to get along with sometimes. Richie drains people, he’s been told, he takes the space he wants and when people don’t push back he keeps taking and taking until there’s nothing left. It’s why his only real friends are people that have been with him since he was 9 years old, with coke-bottle glasses held together by a bandaid and buck teeth decorated by braces- and if people stick with you through that, you’re set for life. Those were the friends he had, and he was content for the most part. 

Sure it sucks to only make new friends when you’re getting drunk on a Thursday night, only to be left with no phone number and a hazy memory of said friend’s name and face.

Richie doesn’t like thinking about that, though- he wishes he was more like Eddie at times. Eddie seemed to have it together for the most part, he made friends with everyone so easily. He was practically a natural fit into the Losers Club, like a puzzle piece that’s been missing and you finally find it after years of searching. 

And now he’s here, laying in his bed, talking to Eddie over the phone about a recurring customer Sunset/Sunrise has been getting lately. She’s a woman in her 60’s or 70’s and she’s always wearing this big rainbow-dyed faux fur coat. She always orders two beers with a slice of lime for each, but changes up her order for every time she’s there.

“She’s doing that thing you did, working her way up through the menu. 1-2-3-4-5 and so on. It reminded me of you.” Richie explains.

“Gee thanks.” Eddie says, and the sarcasm practically spills from his voice and through the receiver. “Comparing me to this weird old lady-”

“How dare you call her weird. She’s practically the coolest person I’ve ever met!” Richie interrupts, half-yelling to the point where he’s sure Stan  _ must _ have heard him.

There’s shuffling on the other, the sound of covers shifting as Eddie speaks: “Full offence, I don’t think your definition of cool is one that’s widely agreed upon.” 

Richie checks the clock on his phone. It’s been almost an hour. He’s waiting for Eddie to say goodnight, their own private ritual. And sure enough, Eddie clears his throat before speaking again: “Anyway, I should really go to sleep.”

“I’m pouting right now. Can you tell.”

“I’ll talk with you tomorrow, Rich.” Eddie reassures firmly. Richie knows he means it. 

“UGH, you hate me.” Richie speaks with an unsatisfied tone that screams ‘angry teenager’.

“Yeah, I do.” Eddie laughs.

“Sleep tight, wet dreams.” Richie says, making overly dramatic kissing noises into his phone. 

“Goodnight, Rich.” Eddie is still laughing when he hangs up the phone and leaves Richie alone in his room. He puts his phone down on the bed and moves to his computer, fully expecting to stay up for at least another 3 hours before even considering going to bed. Five minutes pass where Richie manages to keep himself entertained until..

His phone rings. 

_ It’s Eddie.  _

He picks up the phone immediately and doesn’t even give Eddie a chance to speak before he lets out a confident: “Missing me already, Eds?”

“No I-” Eddie pauses on the other end of the line. “I just forgot to tell you something.”

“Mhmm, and what is that?”

“I can’t remember anymore.”

“Jesus christ Eddie.” Richie laughs under his breath. “You’re so stupid.” He says lovingly. “If you want to talk to me you can.”

“Okay then. Let’s talk.” Eddie’s voice sounds firm, confident, but most of all: Happy.

They talk, until both lines go quiet as night sweeps over New York City and they both fall asleep, blissfully unaware of their upcoming phone bills. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has EVERYTHING: therapy, africa by toto, phone calls with homoerotic tensions, your mom jokes, a parallel drawn between the color red and unconditional love, vomiting
> 
> did you like it? did you hate it? please leave a comment!
> 
> chapter title from when the party's over by billie eilish!


	5. is there a way for me to not do what i have done for so long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took so long. i literally just got a job so i haven't had a lot of time to write. 
> 
> this is probably the weakest chapter so far, i hope chapter 6 will make up for it! thank you so much for reading
> 
> chapter title sponsored by if you know that im lonely - FUR !

1

The following nights continue like that for Richie and Eddie; calling each other on the phone and talking about anything that comes to mind (there’s no longer an invisible stop-line after an hour). Sometimes they’re talking non-stop for hours, other times they’re just present, sitting in a comfortable silence. Eddie’s grown to appreciate every single phone call. It feels refreshing. They never acknowledge that time they fell asleep on call, and they keep doing it; sometimes Richie comes home from work tired to the point he falls asleep mid-sentence. Normally Eddie would bully him about it, but for some reason, he doesn’t feel like it.

  
  


The days go by after that and Eddie barely registers how the days pass. How the winds get colder and how he wishes he had packed a scarf that day he left Myra. Not much he could do about it now; he was living out of his suitcase in a spare room in his friends apartment. Lately he’s begun feeling less guilty about it, but sometimes his guilt about taking advantage of Bill’s kindness will flare up and he has to lie down. It passes, though, thankfully. Sometimes it takes an hour, sometimes it takes two, but it does pass. The sun rises in spite of the night, and it does so every day. 

Eddie is thankful for it. 

  
  


\--

He’s just sat down by his desk at work when his phone starts ringing. He doesn’t get a lot of calls these days - except for his and Richie’s routine call every evening. Not since he blocked Myra’s number, anyway. 

He picks up the phone and doesn’t get the chance to say hi before Richie’s voice echoes through the speaker: “Eddie!”

“Hi Rich-” He tries keeping his voice down so he doesn’t draw the attention of his coworkers- thank God he’s not in an open office anymore. 

“Do you like food?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” He speaks through a small laugh.

“I mean- Do you like Korean food? There’s this Korean grill that opened a couple of weeks ago and Bev recommended we should go there- I mean, I should go there. I haven’t talked to her about us going anywhere. I just wanted to go there myself and thought I could invite you, too. If you’re not doing anything.” Richie fumbles with his words as he speaks but somehow manages to get his point across. 

Eddie laughs: “That was a lot of information in a short amount of time.” 

“I just got home from a 12 hour shift and I’m literally about to pass out on my bed, cut me some slack.”

“I will not.” Eddie answers, completely deadpan.

“What?” Richie’s response sounds worried and Eddie figures that his answer was probably misunderstood, so he elaborates: “I won’t cut you some slack. Dinner sounds good, though.”

“Oh thank god, for a minute I thought you were about to turn down a chance to hang out with me. I was worried for a second.”

“Your confidence is something to strive for.”

“Thank you, I try my best. I’ll pick you up around... “ He pauses. “Whenever I wake up. Is that cool?”

“That’s cool.” Eddie reassures.

“It’s a date, then.”

Eddie’s quiet before nodding, then remembers Richie can’t exactly tell that he’s nodding, so he goes with a: “..Sure.” If someone else were present, they would be able to testify that Eddie’s face was flushing.

Richie coughs on the other end, and says a low: “Yep. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you.” Eddie blinks and before he can do anything, the call has ended. 

(1.5)

(Laying on his bed, Richie Tozier hangs up the phone, shaking with momentary confidence. He takes a moment to breathe, before screaming into his pillow, with a months worth of pent-up feelings.)

\--

Eddie meets up with Richie after he finishes work. Richie is wearing his usual leather jacket but from what Eddie can tell, the hawaiian shirt he wears underneath it seems to not be an eye-bleeding color today. Truth be told, he doesn’t _really_ mind Richie’s fashion choices, even if he’d never admit it to anyone else. 

“Where is the place we’re going to anyway?” He eventually asks after they’ve walked for a few minutes.

“We just need to get on the subway two stops and that’s it.” 

“I see.” He says, and that’s when he starts thinking. He hasn’t been on the subway for God knows how long; it’s been years, at the very least. He thinks he might’ve used it once right after he moved to New York City and before he got his car. Overall it was a bad experience. He had been standing completely still, hands in his pockets, not touching anything, silently begging to arrive at his stop. 

“S’that fine?” Richie asks and snaps Eddie out of his train of thought.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” 

_You can do this, Eddie. It’s fine. It’s new, but it’s not dangerous. Come on. It’s only two stops. Barely 3 minutes. You won’t die._

Richie sends him a look that makes Eddie think he isn’t entirely convinced, but he doesn’t press the matter further. 

\--

The subway is _exactly_ like he remembers. It reeks, there’s too many people and he has no idea where to go or where to look. He keeps his hands in his pockets and keeps his eyes focused on Richie so he doesn’t get lost. The two enter the subway car and Eddie is immediately uncomfortable, the doors slam closed behind them with a loud beeping noise that keeps ringing in his ears for the entire train ride.

_He’s fine,_ he tries convincing himself. 

Someone bumps into him when the subway car shakes roughly and he has to steady his breathing. He makes himself smaller and looks down at his shoes and takes a deep breath.

_He’s fine._

“Our stop.” Richie says lowly and points towards the LED screen. For a minute Eddie had completely forgotten that he was actually heading somewhere. He and Richie are heading out to eat together. Yes, that’s right. He’s fine. 

He follows after Richie as they exit the subway. He blinks and suddenly he’s out in the street again, cold air hitting his face. He hears Richie say something to him, but he can’t make out what it is, it sounds muffled.

“What?” He asks.

“You okay Eds?” Richie repeats.

_Come on, you big baby, you’re out and you’re having fun with your good friend. Don’t make him worry._

“Yeah, sorry, just zoned out.” Eddie laughs awkwardly under his breath.

Richie still doesn’t look convinced.

\--

The restaurant they end up at is fairly nice, it’s certainly not anything like Sunset/Sunrise. Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if Richie had to book a table for them to sit down and eat here; it doesn’t seem like it, though, because Richie approaches the hostess, asks if they have a table for two available and they’re seated immediately after. 

Richie takes off his jacket as they sit down at their table and Eddie finds his eyes lingering on his arms for a bit. Describing Richie’s physique as being ‘ripped’ wouldn’t be truly accurate- he’s not ripped like Ben and Bev are, but he’s certainly not out of shape. He looks like he could split an apple in half with his bare hands. He doesn’t even know why he’s thinking _this_ hard about his friend’s arms, and Richie seems to have noticed because he butts in with a: 

“See something you like?” Richie asks with a wink and Eddie nearly chokes on his own spit. He coughs it away and manages a: “No; Fuck you.” In response. 

_Jesus christ that was embarrassing._

_Come on, make small talk._

“Bev recommended this place?”

“Yeah she and Ben went here last week- said it was great. It’s like uh- you grill your own meat.”

“Oh! So you’re gonna give me food poisoning then?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up, I literally work at a restaurant, out of the two of us I’m the most qualified to cook.”

“I hate that you’re right.”

“I can’t believe this.” Richie mumbles under his breath.  
  


“What?” Eddie blinks.

“You just admitted I’m right.” Richie’s smile stretches across his entire face- it’s his usual shit-eating grin. 

“Don’t test me, Tozier.” Eddie sends him a glare. 

“No- No hold on the other losers _need_ to hear this.” Richie pulls out his phone and aggressively starts typing in what Eddie can assume is their group chat. Sure enough, a few seconds later his phone blares a: 

[ YOU HAVE ONE (1) NEW MESSAGE IN ‘The Losers Club!’ FROM: ‘Richie’ ]

[5:34PM] Richie: EDDIE JUST TOLD ME I WAS RIGHT

An answer from Bill is almost instant. 

[5:35PM] Bill: In what regard? 

[5:36PM] Richie: doesnt matter !! just know that on this day edward spaghetti man eds eddie kaspbrak told me, richard jude tozier, that i was right about something

[5:37PM] Mike: Happy for you Richie xx

“See! At least Mikey appreciates me.”

Eddie gets brave with his next sentence, not because he means it, but because of the implications: “In that case you can ask Mike to join you for dinner here.” 

“You’re so mean to me-” 

Their banter is interrupted by their waiter approaching them, clearly having noticed the volume of their conversation rising and wanting to politely stop them from disturbing anyone else: “Are you two ready to order?” 

Eddie looks to Richie looking for guidance. It’s the same look you used gave your mom when you were at the doctors clinic as a kid and the doctor had just asked you what was wrong.

Richie catches on to the look Eddie sends him, and orders for them. “What do you wanna drink, Eds?” 

“Uh, whatever is fine.”

“Two cokes then.” 

Their waiter nods and leaves the two alone again. They share a silent glance before cracking up with laughter, Eddie doesn’t even know _why_ he’s laughing, it just feels natural. Laughing is second nature with Richie, it’s like breathing; it just happens. 

Soon enough their waiter returns with their drinks. Eddie butts in with a: “Not to be a bother but I can’t eat anything with soy, gluten or nuts in it.” 

“That’s perfectly fine, let me tell the kitchen that.” Their waiter says and writes on their note-pad before handing them a piece of paper with a list of different meats and greens on it. They explain how the ordering system works and leave Richie and Eddie to it. 

“Wait, you can’t eat nuts?” Richie asks in what seems like genuinely confusion.

“Nope. Could realistically kill me.” He explains.

“Oh, so you can’t eat bofa either?”

“Bofa?” Eddie blinks.

Richie breaks down with laughter before he can finish his next sentence. Eddie sits in confusion and soon enough the topic is forgotten and they’re enjoying their dinner.

\--

They’re around 30 minutes into eating when Eddie reaches into his left coat pocket to make sure his inhaler is still there. He doesn’t know why he does it anymore- it’s just become a routine, he knows he doesn’t even need it, but it keeps clinging to him regardless. He does a double take when his hand brushes against nothing. 

It’s not there.

He takes a deep breath and checks his other pocket. 

Nothing.

“Eds? What’s wrong?”

“My uh.. Inhaler. It’s not there. I must’ve dropped it.. on the subway.” He elaborates.

“Oh.” Richie pauses. “You’re fine right now, though? Right?” He asks, voice drowning in obvious concern. 

“Yeah I- I don’t have asthma, I don’t- I don’t need it.” Eddie explains, he doesn’t know if he’s saying it for Richie’s sake or for his own. His heart is beating in his eardrums and he instinctively apologizes: “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay, Buddy. Don’t worry about it. Do you need to go home?” 

“No, I’m fine. I’m so sorry, I’m just- gonna go to the bathroom.” He speaks as he gets up from his seat, leaving Richie at the table. “I’ll just be a minute, I’m sorry.”

The bathroom is easy enough to locate, and it’s thankfully empty. It’s impressively clean; his reflection is perfectly clear as he stares at himself in the mirror. 

“Come on..” He whispers to himself. “You’re fine. You’re in perfect health. You don’t even need it. It’s fine. You’re fine.” He tries convincing himself. 

His breathing isn’t getting better, and in a small fit of frustration he turns on the faucet and splashes cold water in his face. It’s way too cold, it’s so uncomfortable but it seems to do the trick for a moment. He pats his face as dry as he can get it and takes a deep breath.

“You’re okay.” He’s still not convinced, but he walks out of the bathroom and back to the table, where Richie is sitting. 

“Eds, you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine now. Thanks.”

Richie sends him a quiet, gentle look and after that, he tries to get everything back to normal. Don’t think about it.

_You’re fine._

\--

They leave around 2 hours later, and overall, Eddie thinks he had an alright time. He powered through, in spite of the bumps in the road. Richie pays for an uber for them to go home, and they hug each other goodbye as Eddie is dropped off at Bill’s apartment complex. 

He enters the apartment and soon sees that Mike is sitting on the couch, flipping through different notes laying all over the coffee table. 

“Ah Eddie, hey! Sorry about the mess, I didn’t know when you’d be back.”

“It’s not an issue at all.” He says, shrugging off his coat and entering the living room. “Bill isn’t home?” It’s really an observation but he phrases it like a question.

“No, he had a dining reservation with his editor. He left around an hour ago.”

“I see.” Eddie nods and sits down next to Mike on the couch, glancing over the paper scattered. “What are you working on?” 

“Ah, I just started on my thesis. I’m writing a history of my- well, our hometown, Bill’s going to help me get started on it.”

“Oh, cool!” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty interesting. There’s just something about it, you know? This thesis is like.. a love letter to my childhood, if that makes sense.” Mike pauses, puts a bookmark in the book he’s currently reading. “I don’t mean to pry but, you were out with Richie earlier?” 

“Mhmm, we had dinner. We went to this Korean place where you grill your own meat.” Eddie nods and gets up from the couch, he gestures towards the kitchen, in a non-verbal way to ask: ‘ _Do you want tea?’_ Mike responds with a nod.

“Grill your own meat? Sounds nice.” Mike says in an effort to be polite; Eddie knows Mike doesn’t eat meat. 

“Yeah, it was.” Eddie confirms, lingering in thought for a bit as he makes tea for them both; white jasmine for Mike, and lavender for himself (Mike is over enough for Eddie to be able to remember what his favorite tea was). “Hey, Mike?” He speaks from the kitchen and Mike responds with a resounding: “Yeah?”

Eddie picks up both mugs and walks back into the living room.

“Do you ever wonder if you’re doing the right thing.. Like, with your life?” He asks

Mike seems taken aback by the question. “Eddie, let me let you in on a secret: nobody knows what they’re doing.”

Eddie raises his brows, not sure what Mike means. He walks to the couch and puts down the mugs of tea in front of the two. Mike mouths a: ‘ _Thank you.’_ and Eddie nods in response. 

“As you become an adult, I think there’s a lot of expectations on you to know what to do all the time.. Like, to figure out what you want to do.. Who you want to be, you know? So most of us just.. improvise.”

Eddie is listening attentively. 

“Most people just pretend to know what they’re doing, but in reality they’re just.. Trying their best.” Mike takes a sip of his tea, and winces a bit when it just burns his tongue. “And that’s enough: trying your best.” He elaborates with a gentle smile that seems to be permanently plastered on his face.

“I see..” Eddie looks down at his hands, at the pale spot where his wedding ring used to sit.

“You’re doing great, Eddie. Even if you don’t believe it.”

_He doesn’t believe it, no._

“Thanks, Mike.”

“No problem, Eddie. We’re all here for you.” Mike pulls Eddie into a half-hug, that he gladly accepts. 

\--

Eddie picks up a new inhaler the following day. He puts it back in his left pocket, and there it stays.

\--

A few weeks go by, Eddie keeps going to work. The phone calls continue. Tuesday and Thursdays are spent with Bev and Ben. All in all, it’s a comfortable existence, he doesn’t think much about himself and it’s peaceful. That is, until his court date creeps closer and closer; it starts stressing him out.

He mentions it one Thursday while eating with Bev and Ben. 

“What’s happening in your life lately, Eds?” Ben asks in between sips of red wine.

“Uh-” He thinks. “Not much, I have to see my divorce attorney next week though.”

“Oh! You’re getting it finalized?” Bev is instantly all-ears.

“Yeah, hopefully.”

“What day? I’ll go with you if you need anyone.”

“It’s on monday, it’s in the middle of the day, though- You don’t have to-”

“No no, I want to be there. If you’ll have me, that is.”

Eddie cannot for the life of him comprehend why Beverly would willingly go with him to something so boring. Her presence would be appreciated, though (especially since it’s going to be the first time since he left her that he was going to see Myra in person).

“Sure.” Eddie sends her a smile, and she sends one back.

He blinks and now he’s standing in the divorce attorneys waiting room. He’s sitting next to Bev, desperately trying to ignore the fact that Myra is less than 10 feet away from him. Their attorney is running 3 minutes late, and his anxiety is peaking, Bev seems to have picked up on it and she offers him a comforting shoulder rub. He mouths a: _‘Thank you’_ and she smiles at him. 

It’s 7 minutes after they’re meant to start their meeting that they finally start it. Their attorney is a woman in her mid 30s with short brown hair, who introduces herself as Billie, she apologizes for running late. Bev isn’t allowed in the room, and she lets Eddie know she’ll wait outside for him.

Their divorce attorney leads them into a room with a big window, a desk and three chairs. One on the attorneys side and two on his and Myra’s side. He has to sit next to Myra. _It’s fine. It’s only for an hour or so. He’ll be fine._

Eddie tries really hard to pay attention to what’s being said but his mind keeps wandering. Every word seems to blend together, it sounds like he’s underwater and everything is so far away. He looks to the clock and it’s been 30 minutes already. 

“So, for grounds, you, Eddie, wrote _‘adultery’_ , but Myra you haven’t signed a confession to adultery. Are you contesting the claim?” 

“Of course I am, I’m not in a relationship with anyone else!”

“But you told Eddie previously that you had cheated on him?” Billie questions.

“Well, yes, but I don’t think a statement said in passing is grounds for divorce-”

“They are grounds.” She confirms.

“Well. I’m still contesting the claim.”

“So you lied about having cheated on Eddie?”

“You make it sound ugly. Maybe I cheated, maybe I didn’t- I don’t think it really matters.”

“I’m not making it sound like anything. I’m just trying to understand the situation.” Billie looks like she’s aged 10 years for the duration of the conversation. 

“Yeah well, I think you should do your job and take a hint: I’m not signing any paper confessing to adultery.” 

Their attorney looks to Eddie, who’s been quiet through most of it all. “Well, the only way to proceed directly to divorce without a mandatory separation, is for one of you to turn in a written document confessing to have committed adultery. Otherwise we’ll have to go to terms for mandatory separation.” 

Eddie blinks. 

“What if _I_ cheated?” Eddie asks.

“Well, then we’d be able to divorce you without separation.” 

“Do you have one of those papers by any chance?”

“Hold on-” Billie reaches into a big folder. “Yes, here.”

“You can’t just do that, Eddie!”

Eddie doesn’t respond, instead he just signs his name at the bottom of the page and hands it back. Myra is protesting still, but Eddie blocks out the noise.

“Alright, then we’ll continue to discuss your division of property.”

“I’d like my car, please.” Eddie states.

“Oh! That’s not going to be an issue, it’s registered in your name. Myra isn’t even legally involved in the car. The only thing is the townhouse, that you co-own.”

“She can take over ownership of the townhouse. I don’t mind.”

“Wait a minute- This isn’t fair. How am I supposed to travel long distances now? I can’t visit my parents anymore?” Myra exclaims.

“That’s going to be your own issue, since your name isn’t registered to the car.”

“That can’t be right.”

“It is, though.” 

“And, since Eddie is getting evicted from his home, it’s only fair you compensate that with a one-time alimony payment to help him get established again, as to not have him end up homeless. Eddie is thankfully employed, and has expressed a wish to cut contact with you as soon as possible, so a one-time payment is more than beneficial to you, Myra.”

“That’s not fair-” Myra objects.

“It is, though. I think 7500USD would suffice. To be paid in full as soon as possible. You have my verdict.”

Eddie smiles quietly to himself.

\-- 

Eddie walks out of the office legally divorced and feeling more awake than ever. Bev is waiting outside for him and she greets him with a big hug. He melts into her embrace and she congratulates him. 

“Let’s go out for coffee! My treat. I’m really feeling in the mood for cake, too.” She suggests, practically pulling him out of the bland, square office.

“Sure.” Eddie smiles again and the two head out to a café a few blocks down. It’s fairly high end, and Eddie doesn’t feel like he belongs here, and when he looks at the pricing he feels bad that Bev even _offered_ to pay for it. He feels like an imposter, especially next to Bev; she fits in perfectly in a place like this. She fits into her luxurious home and her happy marriage and it’s what she deserves, truly. But he can’t help but compare himself to her, and it makes him feel horrible. It’s not fair to Bev in any way, he realizes that, but it happens nonetheless, even if he wishes it didn’t.

The two sit down and order (cappuccino for Bev and a latte for Eddie. They both decide to get the cake of the day; a red velvet carrot cake). Eddie insists he can pay for himself but Bev stresses that it’s her treat.

They sit down in a corner of the café, in between fake plants and comfortable designer couches. In spite of the crowd of people inside, they get some sense of privacy. They make small talk, both seemingly not sure how to approach what’s actually on their mind. 

“How are you feeling?” Bev asks eventually. “About it all, I mean. Divorces are never easy, trust me, I know.”

“I’m feeling fine.” Is the standardized reply he gives, he’s looking down into his cup and glances up at the remark that Beverly would understand about divorces. “Wait, you’re divorced? From-”

“Oh gosh, no not Ben! Ben is, as much as I hate the term; It makes me sound all spiritual.. But he’s my soulmate. I love him dearly.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t know!” She pulls through with a laugh. “No, I was married before. I was only 19 and I didn’t.. I didn’t know any better. We met while I was studying and.. He made me feel like I was home.” She looks around for a moment, hesitating. “But he also isolated me completely… from Rich, from Ben, from everyone, basically.. He beat me and I stayed because I believed he could be better- He didn’t, though, as you could figure.”

“Jesus, Bev, I don’t know what to say- I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, wasn’t your fault.” He waves her hand, almost dismissively. “I don’t exactly have a good track record with men in my life, but I’m doing better now. It’s still tough and I blamed myself for many years, still do, occasionally. But I’m getting out of bed every day, and I get to wake up next to the love of my life.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “I’ve genuinely never been happier than I am right now.”

“I’m glad to hear that Bev. You are..” He searches his brain for what word best describes her, none really do her justice but he lands on. “You are so strong.” He wishes he could be like her.

“So let me ask you again: How are you feeling? Open up, dig deep. It doesn’t have to be right now, but I’m here if you need me. Every hour of the day, I’m only a phone call away.” Bev reaches her hand out and gives him a comforting rub on the shoulder. Eddie feels like she understands him better than anyone in that moment. He wants to say so many things but all he can manage currently is a: 

“Thank you.” 

  
  


\--

He’s supposed to pick up the rest of his stuff, albeit not a lot, the day after their divorce was final. The court order was to stop by while Myra is out of the house, grab his things, leave the house keys behind and shut the door. It was to be done this way to avoid any conflict or complications and they’d both agreed to it.

Once he’s standing in what used to be his home he realizes it’s too quiet. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t expecting Myra to have stayed home in spite of the plan. He steps carefully into the living room and readies himself for Myra sitting there, ready to try and convince him to give her another chance. He can’t let her speak to him alone, she’s not going to be better, Eddie, you know this. He mentally prepares his scripted speech that Bev had helped him with the day prior: 

_‘Myra, if you want to talk to me it has to be through a lawyer. If you don’t leave me be, I’ll have to file a restraining order.’_

He goes over it three times, looking through the townhouse and ends up standing in complete, dead silence. 

She’s not here.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and unfolds the moving box he brought along and begins packing the rest of his things into it. There’s not a lot, even less of importance to him. The moving box isn’t even half full when he’s done, and that’s when he spots it, tucked away in the back of the closet. A painting. He remembers it, he’d bought it on a whim when they’d first moved in. He had always liked it, but Myra hadn’t; so it wasn’t allowed on the walls. Myra had said she would put it in storage, and once they redecorated the townhouse she would see if they could find a spot for it. They never did.

It’s an abstract painting, with bright colors that reminds him of his childhood. He feels sentimental looking at it, even though it’s technically just yellow, pink and light blue painted in various shapes on a canvas. He also feels rather angry at himself that he let something he genuinely likes get tucked in the back of the closet, only to gather dust for years and years. He blows the layer of dust off and packs it into the moving box. 

He takes one last walk around the townhouse once filled with half-hearted memories and vague feelings of comfort, and it feels empty. Completely, utterly empty. Eddie thinks, _‘it suits her’,_ picks up the box and shuts the door behind him, completely avoiding the hastily scribbled, infinitely long note left on the kitchen table signed: _‘With love, Myra.’_

\--

Eddie goes his first therapy session after his divorce, it’s three days after and he doesn’t quite feel like he’s actually registered that it’s happened yet. It all starts melting together and he wonders sometimes if therapy is even worth it anymore. He tends to zone out during these sessions lately, he still manages to answer, though. But if you pulled him aside after a session and asked him what he’d talked about, he would have no idea what to tell you. That is, except for one specific topic that Amber brings up towards the end of their scheduled time. 

“Are you comfortable discussing your sex life?” She asks and Eddie raises his brows.

“I guess.” He doesn’t know what there is to discuss, though.

  
“What about you and Myra’s relation in that sense, then?”

“We didn’t really.. Not a whole lot.” He’s struggling to actually say it, but he figures she understands well enough.

“Why do you think that is?

“I just didn’t feel the urge, I think.”

“You weren’t attracted to her?”

  
“No, I- I think a lot of men would be but.. I … I wasn’t.”

“And you’ve never felt the urge to have relations with any other woman? Or was it just Myra?”

“No I’ve never looked at women that way. I mean, women.. They’re pretty.”

“Mhmm?” 

“But I just- I’ve never thought about it, no.”

“Forgive my bluntness, but you’re a straight man, right?”

“I’ve never thought about it. Yeah I’m straight, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I see.” Amber nods and adjusts her glasses.

\--

He lies awake later that night thinking about the days that has just passed him by. Probably some of the most important days in his life, if he thinks about it. Here he is, Eddie Kaspbrak, 26 years old. Eddie Kaspbrak, recent divorcee. Eddie Kaspbrak, risk analyst. Eddie Kaspbrak, possibly not straight. 

Who is he kidding? He was married to a woman, of course he’s straight! He’d never even considered the possibility before. Never had it crossed his mind. He had been so sure about everything in his life until he wasn’t. Leaving Myra had set everything in motion, like a downward spiral that just keeps unraveling in and around itself. He’s not gay, he’s pretty sure. No way. 

“ _Do_ _you_ _see_ _that_ _actor_ _there_ , _Eddie-bear_?”

“ _Yes_ , _ma_.”

“ _It’s_ _a wonder_ _they’re_ _still_ _letting_ _him_ _on_ _the_ _TV_.”

“ _How_ _come_?”

“ _Because_ _he’s_ _a queer_ , _honey_. _Sometimes_ _I_ _do_ _wonder_ _what_ _this_ _country_ _has_ _come_ _to_... _letting_ _them_ _parade_ _around_ , _shoving their lifestyles_ _in our faces_.”

_Even though he doesn’t know what the word ‘queer’ means yet, Eddie_ _thinks_ _that_ _the_ _man_ _on_ _TV_ _looks_ _like_ _a completely_ _regular_ _person_. _But_ _he’s_ _5_ _years_ _old_ _and_ _his mom_ _knows_ _best_. _Of course she does, she’s his mom._

Eddie isn’t sure about anything anymore and it frustrates him. Surely, he can’t be gay. Right..? Right? He was married to a woman. But he wasn’t attracted to her; doesn’t mean he’s gay! Eddie isn’t sure about anything anymore, and it frustrated him beyond measure. He wants a break, to find solace in something, if only for a bit. 

And then there’s Richie, a presence in his life that makes him feel so… 

And Eddie has to stop his train of thought there. 

\--

12 days after his divorce is official, Eddie finds his own place to live, it’s an apartment on the 23rd floor, with a view over New York Traffic, a small kitchen, a living room, and a small bedroom (thankfully also a parking spot, which was a miracle given the price).

Bill and Mike are sad to see Eddie move out, but happy that he’s able to stand on his own two legs now. They had celebrated their last night living together with dinner at a restaurant, and promises of Eddie hosting a housewarming very soon. 

His apartment is way smaller than the townhouse, but it’s enough space for him. It currently feels bigger than it is, though, given the fact that the only furniture in it is a mattress on the floor of the bedroom and a single moving box with his remaining items from the townhouse in it. He hasn’t bought anything for his apartment yet, it’s not like it isn’t in his budget to look for furniture: the 7500 dollars from Myra made that easy for him. 

But he couldn’t get himself to go down and look for anything, not yet; and you can’t exactly host a housewarming party when you barely feel like you’ve moved in. 

It all begins going downhill when Eddie is spending his third day off alone in his apartment and he misses his and Bev’s Tuesday jog in Central Park. Bev isn’t mad about it when he calls to apologize and lets her know that he’ll make up for it, soon- and then he doesn’t come home to Ben and Bev for dinner that following Thursday. He feels pathetic. Living alone did that to him, he found out. It was the first time in his entire life he’d lived without someone else and the silence was deafening. 

The phone calls to Richie every evening stop, too. First they just went back to being an hour long, then Richie calls him and Eddie is too exhausted to say anything for the entire call. The next day Richie calls again and Eddie says: _“I’m sorry, Rich, can we pick back up tomorrow?”_

Richie says it’s okay, but Eddie still feels horrible. The next three days pass by like that, and eventually Richie stops calling, instead opting to send a text that said:

[11:21PM] Richie: hey buddy i miss you. hope youre doing okay. call me if i can do anything to help you out ok ?

He musters a reply, his fingers lingering over the keyboard on his phone as he types out a reply.

[11:34PM] YOU: Thanks Rich

The text messages keeps coming in, most of them from Bev, who makes sure to send one every single morning, at almost the exact same time.

[6:12AM] Bev: The sun is shining right now, Eds! Have you been outside? Talk soon.

[6:11AM] Bev: Good morning Eddie! How are you feeling?

[6:13AM] Bev: I love you Eddie! Ben is missing his sous-chef! Talk soon <3 

And Eddie just can’t get himself to reply. 

He’s alone again, and there’s a strange form of catharsis that comes with it; the same feeling you have right before bungee-jumping or sky-diving (not that Eddie has tried either of those). But it’s effectively also a form of self harm, he figures. He deserves this, even if it makes him feel worse. Even if he _knows_ it makes him feel worse. It would be so easy to meet up with the others, to throw this out the window and be done with this feeling of unprompted hatred for his own actions. But he can’t.

Not until he gets a call from Stanley. He doesn’t know why he picks up the phone. Be it by some last act of desperation, or guilt, not that it matters. 

“Hi Stan.” His voice is tired and strained, and he’s surprised by even hearing it come out of his mouth at this point.

“Eddie! Hey man, how are you?”

“I’m.. I’m doing fine, Stan. How are you?”

“I’m great! Listen, I’ll cut right to the chase: The Losers and I are going out of state for the weekend to catch sight of the last birds before they migrate.”

“Oh! Sounds fun.”

“You’re obviously welcome to join, it’s gonna be pretty secluded, Patty’s parents let us borrow their cabin so it’s just going to be us.”

“Oh..!” Agreeing would be like jumping off of a cliff into shallow water, he figures. 

“I know it might be hard, but if you want to come join us, you’re more than welcome. We _all_ miss you but quite frankly, I’m tired of hearing Richie whine about how much _he_ misses you.” There’s a laugh and Stan pauses: “Anyway, you don’t have to let us know right now, but we’re only a call away. We’re leaving on friday-”

Eddie takes one look at his still empty apartment, and speaks before Stanley’s even finished his sentence.

“I’d love to go.” He takes the plunge, and lands comfortably. 

“I’m happy to hear that, Eddie.”

“Yeah.. Me too.” Eddie responds, almost surprised at his own words.

  
  
  


2

The day before they leave for their trip, Richie finds himself in front of Eddie’s apartment complex. He’s standing with a fully packed backpack on his back and an aloe vera plant in his hands (because he’s read online that they have great health benefits and multiple uses). He figures it’s a good a gift as any- not that he knows much about gift-giving, anyway. 

It’s easy to see which flat is Eddie’s without even knowing the number. His name is handwritten neatly on a piece of paper and taped to the buzzer. It’s easy to tell that Eddie wrote it himself. He thinks for a minute before pressing the Buzzer, and soon enough Eddie’s voice is echoing over the speaker. 

“Yes?”

“Spaghetti man! It’s me. And you better let me in because it’s pouring out and I broke my leg and I also got mugged-”

Eddie’s laugh makes itself evident: “You’re such an idiot.”

The door buzzes and Richie lets himself in. He takes the elevator and stands awkwardly as he waits to arrive on Eddie’s floor. It’s his first time visiting so it takes him a bit of awkward standing and reading name plaques looking for the right one. But before he can locate Eddie’s apartment, the man himself opens the door two doors down from where Richie is currently standing. The second he sees Eddie he excitedly exclaims:

“Eddie!” 

“Richie-” Eddie smiles weakly.

Richie runs up to Eddie and hands him the plant: “Impromptu housewarming gift! It’s a plant.”

“I can tell. Wow.” Eddie takes a look at the aloe vera plant. “Uhm, my apartment isn’t really at its best right now, do you wanna-”

“Eddie, I can handle a little mess. Have you even met me?” Richie says as he moves past Eddie and into the apartment. He’s expecting clothes on the floor and cups everywhere and is met with the exact opposite. Nothing. It’s completely empty.

“Jesus christ, Eds.”

“I know it’s bad, I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me, Eddie. When’s your next paycheck? I can lend you some-” Richie offers with no hesitation but Eddie interrupts him.

“It’s not about money, Rich.”

“..Oh.” He blinks.

“There’s no furniture because..” Eddie moves to close the front door and pauses mid-sentence to collect himself. “There’s no furniture because I’m scared that this is gonna be it. I haven’t ever made decisions like this on my own before and it’s terrifying. What if I buy a couch and regret it? And I return it for another couch and then I just.. Don’t ever settle on a couch and then I’m stuck. This is my _home,_ this is where I’m supposed to bring my friends and have fun and watch movies and it looks like.. This.” 

Eddie moves to place the aloe vera plant on the windowsill and continues: “Whenever I’m at your place I’m like ‘Yeah, that’s where Richie lives, and where Stan lives.’ and Bill’s apartment is the same and don’t even get me started on Bev and Ben because they just have their shit together. And I don’t even know where to _begin_.”

“Eddie I-”

“I know it’s stupid, I’m like a child.” Eddie waves his arms around in defeat and looks out the window.

“Not at all. I just- I’m not good with this stuff, but there’s no rush to figure out these things, you know? Just do whatever feels right when it feels right.” Richie attempts, he knows he isn’t very good at being serious but by God he’s trying.

The two stand still in the empty apartment before Richie lets out a: “Shit, Eddie, I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

“Pretending?” Eddie asks in confusion, turning around, and for a moment Richie regrets saying anything, but he can’t hold it in anymore. It’s almost overwhelming how much he’s missed talking to Eddie. He never wants them to be separated again for this long, even though he knows it’s selfish of him to wish for something like that. 

“That I don’t wanna give you the biggest hug ever because I’ve fucking missed you, Spaghetti Man.”

Eddie smiles and slowly approaches Richie, who in turn pull Eddie into the tightest hug he’s been in in years. They still haven’t let go of the embrace when Richie speaks again: “I was gonna ask if I could crash on your couch, but fat chance for that happening, huh?” He feels Eddie laugh against his chest. 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” 

“Don’t be.”

  
  


They end up sharing the mattress, and if Richie finds some solace in falling asleep while listening to Eddie’s breathing as he sleeps, then nobody else needs to know. 

\--

Richie wakes up next to Eddie on the mattress on the floor in Eddie’s bedroom. For two fully grown men, it’s a wonder that they managed to share it without laying completely on top of each other. But they managed, even with a slight pain in his lower back. 

Richie rolls over to check his phone, currently charging next to the mattress to see that they are very late for meeting up with the losers. He reaches over and shakes Eddie gently awake.

“Eddie, we’re late.”

“Wait, what? When are we supposed to leave?”

“Seven minutes ago.”

Eddie sits up immediately and runs through to the bathroom to brush his teeth and pack his toiletries. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier!?”

“I just woke up myself, Spaghetti. Don’t kill the messenger.”

“I just might..! Ugh and I’ll have to get a coffee now because I have to drive for 5 hours and there’s no way I’ll stay awake that long without caffeine.” Eddie mumbles to himself as he moves through the apartment and gets dressed properly. Richie thankfully has the luxury of having slept in his clothes, and he doesn’t mind keeping them on for the drive. “Ruining my body, and for what? To sleep an hour more? Are you calling the others to let them know we’re late?” Eddie asks from the living room as he carries bags towards the front door. 

Richie still hasn’t gotten up from the mattress, he’s only half-listening to what Eddie is saying, but he does hear the last question and replies with a: “Ah, yeah. I’ll let them know.”

He sends a text to their group chat.

[8:07AM] YOU: hey guys me n eddie overslept we’re gonna be late

[8:08AM] Stannn: we figured

[8:10AM] Bevvv: That’s alright! Do you guys need anything? 

“How do you like your coffee? I’ll have Bev pick up some for you so it’s ready when we have to drive.”

“Just give me a black espresso.” 

“Alrighty.” Richie winches at the choice of caffeine but adds:

[8:12AM] YOU: a black espresso and a red bull please and thank you xx

[8:13AM] Bevvv: I hope you’re not drinking both of those, but alright.

Richie chuckles and looks up to see a disoriented Eddie standing in the doorway.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, Yeah.” Richie rolls his eyes lovingly and gets up from the mattress.

\--

They all meet up before they begin their drive, Eddie gets his coffee and Richie gets his red bull, Eddie apologizes furiously for being late, but none of the losers mind. Stan and Patty are carpooling in Bev and Bens car, while Bill and Mike are in the backseat of Eddie’s car. Richie has prepared a mixtape (it’s technically a spotify playlist, but calling it a mixtape sounds cooler) for the drive that Eddie surprisingly doesn’t turn off after 5 minutes. It’s a mix of classic 80s pop, hard rock and showtunes and everyone in Eddie’s car seem to love it. Richie smiles with pride at the reaction from the others, and sings along extra loud to _‘Everybody wants to rule the world’_ by Tears for Fears. 

After a bit, Bill and Mike have fallen asleep leaning on each other, hand in hand in the backseat. Richie pulls out his phone to take a picture of them to use later, but Eddie stops him with a firm: “Richie Tozier, let them have some privacy.”

“Sorry mom.” Richie rolls his eyes and decides to listen to the music playing. The speakers are currently playing _‘Sweet child o’ mine’_ by Guns N Roses on a reasonable volume. 

Richie looks out the window as they drive off the freeway and into what is practically just a forest. It’s a single-lane road and it’s bumpy, Richie thinks he sees a deer and tries to get Eddie to stop the car in order to investigate. 

“Eddie, come on! It’s a deer!”

“I’m sure it was.”

“You never let me do anything!”

“Mhmm.” Eddie nods knowingly. “Once we get there, you can go out for a hike in the middle of the night, then you might meet a deer.”

“Or a bear.”

“There are bears here?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t know.” Richie shrugs. 

Soon enough they’ve arrived. The losers step out of their parked cars and take a look around the place. A big, spacious cabin by a lake in a secluded part of the woods, located less than 100 feet from a big lake. This is where they’ll be for the next three days and two nights. 

“A group of friends.. All alone in a cabin in the woods for the weekend… If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were in a horror movie.” Richie thinks aloud.

“Can I nominate Richie if we need to sacrifice someone?” Eddie walks up to him, carrying his suitcase and bags. The Losers laugh, except for Richie who looks deeply offended.

“Yeah, well, we’re actually gonna kill all of you tonight.” Stanley says deadpan, almost like he means it. They know he doesn’t, though. “Anyone want any tea?” Stan asks almost right after finishing his sentence.

The Losers, bags and suitcases in hand, make it inside the cabin.

(2.5)

(Before stepping through the front door, Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks the fresh air feels wonderful.)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen . maybe its perjury to lie about having cheated. but eddie deserves the best and i dont care about the law
> 
> did you like it! did you hate it? let me know in a comment! its really the only thing keeping me going!


	6. nothing has to change today, you didn’t mean to say: _ ____ ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait yall! i recently got a job and i havent been feeling very motivated to write! updates might take a bit longer from now on
> 
> ten points to anyone that catches every single reference i put in this chapter!
> 
> chapter title from i love you by billie eilish!

1

It doesn’t take long for them all to be settled into the cabin. It’s very spacious; quite modern, actually. There’s a large living room with two couches, bean bags and a fireplace. There’s a bar-table that separates the kitchen and living room and Richie is immediately standing next to it, opening the mini-fridge and wine fridge that sits underneath it: to his disappointment, there’s no alcohol stocked. 

“Patty! Your parents haven’t stocked this place with any liquor?”

“No? Why would they?” From Patty’s tone of voice, Richie is pretty sure she doesn’t like him all that much. It’s okay though; she tolerates him, and that’s the most he could ask for from anyone.

Bev sighs and facepalms. “We’re not here to get wasted, Rich. This isn’t spring break.”

“Speak for yourself.” Richie looks through the cupboards- for no other reason than just to get a layout of everything. “You guys don’t wanna sit by that lit fireplace tonight with a glass of red wine and just enjoy... I don't know... existing?”

“That’s not what I said;” Bev corrects, and Richie listens attentively. “I did plan ahead so there might be a few wine bottles in the trunk of our car, if you behave.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because you’re you, Rich.” Bev says lovingly and her comment earns a chuckle from the rest of the group (except for Richie). 

Room distribution goes by without any trouble: there’s 5 bedrooms, all modestly sized. They look like the cheapest hotel master suites you could get in a real fancy hotel; Hilton, or Marriot- not that it was an issue at all. Stan and Patty share a room, Bev and Ben share one, Mike and Bill share one and Eddie and Richie get their own. Richie is still in the clothes he slept in the night before when he leaves his room after an impromptu power nap. His hair is messy and he doesn’t bother fixing it when he walks into the living room and flops onto a bean bag next to the lit fireplace, _it’s a bit too hot_ , he thinks, but cozy nonetheless. He looks at the grandfather clock which reads 5:48PM, and immediately after he looks towards the kitchen, where Ben and Mike are currently busy cooking. Something smells like garlic but other than that Richie isn’t exactly good at telling food apart from the smell alone.

“What are we having, chefs?” Richie asks from the couch.

“Uh-” Mike thinks for a moment, pausing. “It’s a pasta dish.” He says (his mind obviously focused on something other than Richie), while still moving through the kitchen and being hard at work. Richie is satisfied enough with the answer and turns back to the fireplace, getting lost in thought as he lets himself sink into the bean bag. He isn’t sure whether or not he falls asleep because the next time he blinks, apparently it’s been 30 minutes since he sat down. He perks up when he feels a hand come in to ruffle the top of his head, and soon enough Bev’s voice is heard.

“We’re eating now, Rich. Wake up.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Mhmm.. Sure you weren’t.” 

Richie huffs, but gets up anyway. 

\--

It’s around an hour later, and they’re all finishing up their dinner, they’re all on their second or third glass of wine and everyone is speaking a tad loudly, making conversation with whoever is sitting next to them. Richie is seated next to Stan, Patty, Bev and Ben, and they’re currently talking about different kinds of dog breeds and which they like the best. Patty likes small dogs, Richie learned that fact after Ben told them that he and Bev were considering getting a St. Bernhard somewhere in the near future. Stan doesn’t like dogs _that_ much, but wouldn’t mind getting a cat eventually. 

Richie doesn’t want a dog at all, so he’s sort of out of the conversation, passively observing. He glances over at Eddie, who is currently in conversation with Mike and Bill. Richie lets his eyes linger a moment too long to not be able to notice something he hasn’t paid mind to before.

Eddie is cute. 

Sure, he’s has made off-hand remarks about it before, but that’s just part of Richie’s charm (at least that’s what he tells himself); he flirts with just about everyone!

But now he’s actually _looking_ and Eddie is handsome.

In a way that’s endearing- in a way that makes Richie want to sit down in front of him and tell him everything he finds incredible about him. About the way the always tries to suppress his laughter but always ends up not being able to hold it in anymore, and laughs with the energy of a thousand suns. The way he gets up at 6AM _every single morning_ without fail. The way he has a small speckle of freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose. How his eyes turn gold like honey when the sun hits them just right. His undereye bags that have seemed to vanish more and more since they first met. His subtle crows feet. His dark brown hair with a few grey hairs scattered throughout it.

Of course he can’t actually say all that. 

He can’t do that to Eddie when he’s just come out of a marriage. He can’t do that to Eddie who definitely only thinks of him as a friend. He can’t do that to Eddie who deserves so much better than Richie. So he decides to keep these thoughts to himself. 

Like he always does.

Richie’s never come out, not officially anyway. There’s never been a moment that felt right. 

He was planning on saying it once they graduated high school, but then he didn’t. 

Then he wanted to say it once he moved to NYC, but then the timing didn’t fit. 

Then he wanted to say it at Ben and Bevs wedding, but that would’ve been inappropriate. 

Then he wanted to say it the night after his first real booking, but then he didn’t.

And by now it’s been so long, maybe it’s just easier to not say it. Nothing has to change, not now or ever.

\--

They all settle on watching a movie together after dinner. Of course, they’re 8 people and the movie-finding part is so time consuming that Richie is on his fifth glass of wine before they've even agreed on a genre for the movie. He doesn’t quite know how tipsy the others are, but he’s feeling it (and with his realization earlier that night, he keeps his mouth shut, in fear of what he might say).

Mike and Ben want to watch something artsy. In response, Bill says: “It’s all metaphors and metaphors… why can’t we just watch a movie? I don’t want to analyze every frame I look at.” 

“That’s the fun part, though! When a movie leaves you with something to think about.” Mike explains and Ben agrees with a nod. 

“Oh! How about a comedy? Something lighthearted!” Bev suggests. “Home Alone?”

“Babe.. It’s not Christmas.” Ben responds. 

“You can watch Christmas movies all year round!” Bev defends her choice of film and Richie zones out from listening to them debate. He looks towards Eddie, who’s currently sharing the couch with him, and jokingly rolls his eyes at the Losers. 

Eddie smiles and tunes back in to the conversation. 

“Ghostbusters?” He suggests, and everyone goes quiet for a moment. 

“Yeah. Ghostbusters! That's a great idea Eds!” Bev exclaims, and everyone else agrees, too. Soon enough the movie’s playing and Richie is having a hard time focusing: not because of the fact that the losers are commenting on every part of the movie (a time-honored tradition whenever they watched movies together); he had gotten used to that long ago. He’s having a hard time focusing because his body is growing warmer and getting buzzy after five glasses of wine, and Eddie’s leg is brushing up against his own and he’s trying with all the power in him not to move- as to not spoil the moment. 

Eddie. 

_Eddie._

Richie blinks and the movie’s practically over, the third act is wrapping up and the others have gone completely quiet as they eagerly await the credits. Eddie’s half-laying on the couch by now, dozing off. Richie thinks that if Eddie actually falls asleep like this, then he’d be leaning on Richie while sleeping. He doesn’t know if he can bear that happening, so once the credits start rolling on the TV-screen, he rushes out of the couch with a flustered blush and a cough (which wakes up Eddie from his half-sleep). 

They say their goodnights and agree to get up at 4:30AM to go birdwatching and it seems like a good idea when Richie sets his alarm. It doesn’t seem like a good idea when he’s lying awake at 2AM, unable to sleep. Richie got it sometimes, insomnia, that is. His thoughts are working overtime and it fucking sucks. It’s gotten better over the years but his senior year of high school was plagued with several days without sleep (and when you’ve been a straight A student your entire life, letting your lack of sleep influence your final grades, was probably the dumbest thing you could do). He existed on red bulls and cigarettes, and now that Richie thinks back on it, he wonders how he managed to not poison his body completely before the age of 18. 

He figures his body is poisoned by now, though. 

Richie is awake until his alarm goes off. 

He meets with the others in the living room, who all seem equally as sleepy but ready and excited to go look at some birds. He heads for the fridge and is grateful he decided to pack three cans of red bull for the trip. He grabs one of the cans and opens it with a loud pop, attracting attention and (seemingly) waking everyone up for a second time. Richie stiffly shrugs at the others in a non-verbal: _‘Sorry’._

\--

“Birdwatching goes both ways, you know.” Stanley says as he hands all of the losers their own binoculars. Richie blinks at the statement, but at this point in life he has decided to just not question anything strange that Stan says. 

Richie is tracking behind as the last in the line after they leave the cabin and go on their brief hike into the woods. The sun is just beginning to rise as they arrive at a clearing and begin to settle down and do the hardest part of birdwatching: waiting. They’re a fairly large group, but they manage to remain mostly quiet, as to not startle any wildlife. Richie doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but finds solace in the fact that he shares a glance with Eddie who seems to be just as clueless as himself. They both raise their brows at each other and take turns making faces like they’re 12 year olds. 

Richie takes a moment to glance over to Stanley, currently whispering to Patty who has seemingly spotted something off in the distance, she’s pointing and gesturing and Stanley is nodding attentively. Richie thinks for a moment about how intimate this must be for Stanley; allowing them all into a part of his life that obviously means so much to him. Stan never took the losers birdwatching with him, it was always something he did on his own. A part of his life he wanted to keep to himself, something untouched by anyone who wasn’t himself. None of the losers took it personally, not now or back when they were kids.

\--

They’re out for about an hour before they call it a day. Stan seems satisfied, and that’s enough for everyone else to be happy with how it turned out. Richie thinks he might have heard an owl at one point and that was what he got out of it. He isn’t exactly too interested in birds if he was being honest, but by God if it was for Stanley he would fake it. There were many things he would do for Stanley. 

He tracks behind the group when they go back, like when they’d left. Richie isn’t making smalltalk with anyone- he’s too exhausted from lack of sleep to converse. He’s just quietly walking until they reach the cabin again and once they do, Richie immediately makes it back to his room. He doesn’t bother closing his door, instead he throws himself onto the bed. 

It’s perfect; it feels like he’s floating on a cloud. He’s fallen asleep after a few minutes but is awakened by a knock on the (still open) door. He doesn’t have to look up to know it’s Eddie who speaks:

“Knock knock.” He pauses. “Why did I say knock knock out loud.. That’s stupid.. Anyway-” There’s a sound of footsteps approaching the bed and a few seconds later Eddie sits down next to Richie on the bed. “Stan told me to tell you that he’s making tea with the Patty, and that you’re welcome to join.”

“Why couldn’t he have said that himself.” Richie’s voice is muffled, seeing as his face is still pressed against the sheets. 

“Because he’s making tea with Patty right now and his hands are full.” 

“I see… Are you having any?” Richie turns his head to look up at Eddie, but he doesn’t sit up straight.

“No- me and Bev were gonna go for a jog, get some fresh air, you know?” Eddie says and gets up from the bed, he pats Richie twice harshly on the back. “Anyway, sorry to disturb, feel free to continue your nap, you big baby.” There’s the sound of two footsteps before Richie speaks, he doesn’t register what he’s saying before after it’s left his mouth:

“I’ll join you.” The words are slurred and tired, and Richie feels like someone else spoke them.

Richie sits up in the bed and looks to Eddie, who looks very surprised by his statement. 

“You’re going jogging with Bev and I?” Eddie can’t stop a smile from creeping its way onto his lips.

“What’s so funny about that?”

Eddie shakes his head and chuckles. “Nothing. We’re meeting outside in ten minutes. Wear something you won’t sweat to death in, I know you’re gonna do it unless I tell you not to.” 

“Your expectations of me are too low.”

“And somehow they’re always too high.” Eddie says with a wink and leaves Richie’s room. 

_Ten minutes._

Richie blinks, he’s sure he has something suitable for running in packed. He looks through his bag, and pulls out a pair of sweatpants and decides to reuse the t-shirt he slept in since he knows he’s gonna be sweating. It isn’t that Richie is out of shape, it’s just that he’s not particularly in shape, either. He takes off his pants and gets ready to change clothes but nearly trips over his own feet when he hears Stan’s voice:

“Jeez, Rich.” He laughs. “Out on display for everyone to see, huh? Reminds me of your 21st birthday party. Also your 23rd-”

“Shut up and close the door.” Richie says and adds a: “Please.”

“How could I possibly say no to that.” Stan says, takes a step into the room and closes the door behind him. “Why are you getting changed?”

“I’m going jogging with Bev and Eddie.” Richie states like he doesn’t quite believe it.

“Jogging?” 

“Yeah.”

“With Bev and Eddie?”

“Yeah.” Richie replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Stanley blinks. “Why?”

“Can a guy not do something good for his body without there being some ulterior motive?” Richie asks as he pulls on his shirt.

“That’s not what I meant...” He pauses, and purses his lips, as if he wants to say something. “I mean.. More power to ya, Rich.” Stan shrugs and re-opens the door to his room. “Good luck with your Ironman.” He says as he exits into the hallway and walks away.

“I won’t need it!” Richie says, he doesn’t get a response but he knows Stanley heard.

He knows he’ll need it.

\--

He meets up with Bev and Eddie 17 minutes after he had told Eddie he’d join them. He doesn’t know how it took him so long (at least that’s what he tells himself, but it takes 5 minutes to make a cup of coffee 2 minutes to drink it and another minute to down a can of red bull; to literally everyone else in the kitchens disgust). They’re both already standing outside, dressed and ready to go. Bev is jogging in place (probably to get her pulse going) and Eddie is glaring daggers at Richie. 

“You’re late.” 

“Sorry mom.” Richie rolls his eyes and takes a look at the two. Bev is in proper jogging gear, with black yoga pants and a sports bra (and even one of those holders for your phone is wrapped around her arm). Bev might not look it normally whenever her arms are covered up, but she is super buff. Her hair is in a ponytail and it swishes back and forth with every move she makes. She looks powerful and professional. 

Eddie is in what looks like an old college t-shirt and a pair of shorts that are too goddamn short for Richie not to inadvertently stare for a few seconds too long to not be weird. They’re bright red, and make him look 5 years younger (not that Eddie looks bad for his age, he’s only mid-20s after all). 

“What?” Eddie’s voice snaps Richie out of his stare, he looks up, adjusts his glasses and says: “Nothing, let’s get jogging lads.”

He laughs awkwardly and starts jogging in place, trying his best to mimic what Beverly is doing. Eddie rolls his eyes and the three begin their jog. 

It’s fine at first, but after 10 minutes Richie is really feeling the fact that the only cardio he’s done in at least a year was the one Dance Dance Revolution match he had against Stanley at a nightclub they never went back to. “How long’s the trail?” He asks, out of breath. 

“Patty said this trail is just a circle around the lake, really. Should be about forty minutes.” Bev states, speaking like she’s not currently completing what feels like a triathlon (to Richie, at least). 

“Nooo.” Richie groans under his breath.

“You wanted to come with.” Eddie reminds him. 

“Do you need a break?” Bev asks, slowing down but not quite stopping. Eddie seems to be listening attentively so Richie opts for: “No, I’m fine. Don’t need a break. I’m totally cut out for this cardio shit, I could be a yoga instructor.” 

“Yoga isn’t cardio.” Eddie corrects. 

“Either way, I’m fine.” Richie stresses. Beverly isn’t convinced but takes his word for it and they keep going. 

15 minutes later Richie has to admit defeat and practically collapses down on the ground with heavy breathing. Eddie has an expression that paints his face with every thought he’s currently thinking. He doesn’t say anything though, only offers him a water bottle. 

“You two can go ahead, I’ll just.. take a ten minute break.” Richie makes a waving motion towards Bev and Eddie who are currently standing beside him. 

“I’m not leaving you here, you won’t be able to find your way back.” Eddie says. 

“It’s literally a trail that only has one road.” 

“You’d manage to get lost anyway.” 

Richie sighs. “Fair enough. What about you Bev?”

“I need to keep my pulse up. Take your break; seems like you need it. “ She says with a big smile on her lips and sticks out her tongue at Richie.

“Love you too, Trashmouth.” Richie smiles back. “See you back at the cabin.” 

“Ciao. Don’t get mauled by a bear.” Bev says and just like that she’s gone. 

Eddie is quiet for a moment but ponders: “Wait are there actually bears here?”

“No, I don’t think so, at least.”

“Oh…” Eddie glances back and forth between Richie and the woods. He swallows awkwardly before speaking again. 

“So.. Trashmouth?” He repeats after Bev. 

“Oh yeah, it’s a nickname they gave me as kids. Believe it or not, I used to spew so much more shit than I do now!”

“No way, I don't believe it. How could they possibly have been around you if you were _more_ annoying than you are now?”

“A miracle.” He takes a swig of water.

Eddie laughs, squatting down next to Richie in an attempt not to. “What a stupid nickname, anyway.. _‘Trashmouth’_... Suits you.”

“Hey!” Richie intentionally spills a bit of water on Eddie’s leg and the shorter man quickly gets up in response, putting 3 feet between the two.

“Rich!” Eddie exclaims. “You’re so mean! I’m leaving you behind. Have a good life.”

“Noooo don’t leave me behind.” Richie pleads, reaching his hands out, even if he knows Eddie’s promise to _actually_ leave him behind is an empty one. Eddie seems to play along, because he crosses his arms and walks away. “Eddie!! Nooooo.” Richie cries, getting off of the ground and running after Eddie, who stops dead in his tracks once he hears Richie approaching.

“Do you want to walk the rest of the way back?” Eddie asks.

  
“Are you going to bully me if I say yes?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

They walk the rest of the way back.

\--

Richie gets back to the cabin and practically collapses onto his bed. His legs feel like they’re gonna fall off and he’s about to take his second nap of the day when Mike knocks on his (yet again, still open) door. 

“Yes?” 

“I hope I’m not disturbing your sleep, Richie.”

  
“You’re not, don’t worry.” Richie says, sitting up in bed. “What’s up?”

Mike looks over his shoulder and closes the door behind him. 

“You know Bill better than I do.”

“I suppose.” Richie shrugs, not knowing where Mike is going with his statement.

“Do you..” Mike pauses to think. “Do you know what kind of.. Stuff does he like? I mean, obviously he likes books and that but.. What else?”

Richie blinks and a smile creeps onto his face. “Oh yeah! His birthday is coming up soon, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Mike confirms with a nod.

“Let me think..” Richie thinks. Bill doesn’t tell a lot of his wishes to the Losers, he’s sure Bill wants things but… he’s exceptionally bad at asking for anything. He gets the idea that Bill doesn’t want to impose or be too demanding of a person, which is a shame because they all look up to him a lot.

“Well, it might not be very relevant _now_ but.. When we were eleven or twelve years old he had a whole phase where he was obsessed with the idea of Disney. To be fair, we were eleven, so of course we loved Disney, but Bill was just.. On another plane of excitement about it. He’d collect every movie on VHS tape and him and Georgie would just watch them over and over again.” Richie explains. “There was a time where he’d watched one of the movies to the point where the tape was unreadable on the VHS player.. I think he might still have some of the VHS tapes at home actually.” Richie pauses. “You could get him a VHS player! He’d probably appreciate that.”

“That’s a great idea, Rich.. Thank you for the advice.”

“No problem man. Honestly, he’ll appreciate whatever you get him no matter what it is.”

“I know I just- Wanna make this birthday special since it’s our first together, you know?”

“Mike. I am actually going to cry. You are making me cry. I’m crying. You are too sweet.” Richie states, pretending to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes. Mike laughs in response.

“Nooo..! Don’t cry, Rich.” Mike plays along, his acting isn’t very convincing- not that it needs to be. Richie appreciates it nonetheless. 

“Anyway, go get your man.”

“I mean.. We’re already dating-”

“You know what I mean.”

\--

Richie doesn’t even register that he’s fallen asleep until he wakes up, it’s getting dark outside and it’s now that he’s really starting to regret having stayed awake the previous night (not that he had much choice either way. 

There’s a scent of garlic flowing through the cabin yet again as Richie gets up from the bed and goes out to the kitchen and living area. Sure enough, Eddie and Ben are in the kitchen while Mike, Bill, Bev, Patty and Stan are scattered around the living room- Mike and Bill are on one of the two couches, sharing a blanket and are currently sprawled across each other. If it were anyone else, Richie would have found the display of affection annoying, but he could never get himself to be mad at Mike or Bill. Stan is reading through a book by the fireplace and Bev and Patty are sitting at the barstools, watching as dinner is prepared.

“Good morning Richie.” Mike laughs as he speaks. “You were out like a light.”

“And after two energy drinks, nonetheless, you really are a medical marvel, Rich.” Stan adds.

“Yeah, I really am something out of this world, aren’t I?” Richie smiles and sits next to Bev and Patty.

The silence he gets in response is deafening. 

  
  
  


2

There’s two (and a half) bathrooms in the cabin and both of them house a decently sized tub. Eddie had found out almost right after arriving, because Richie had spent a good five minutes japping about how incredible it was:

_“You make it sound like you’ve never taken a shower before.” Was Mike’s response._

_“He hasn’t.” Stanley confirms, and Richie looks deeply offended. “I’m pretty sure he has lice.” Stan added._

_“You literally live with me! That’s a lie and you know it.”_

_“As someone who lives with you, I think Stan is the most qualified person to comment.” Bill pointed out with a raised brow._

_“Fuck you guys! I don’t have lice.”_

_“Cut it out guys, Richie doesn’t have lice.” Bev responded in a serious tone._

_“Thank you!” Richie exclaimed._

_“He has fleas.” Bev added, and the rest of the losers, including Eddie, bursted into laughter, much to Richie’s dismay._

_“Oh my god! I’m actually gonna snap one of these days, then you’ll all be sorry.” Richie groaned loudly before making a dramatic exit to his room._

  
  


And now Eddie is standing in front of the previously mentioned bathtub, waiting for it to fill up. He hasn’t had a proper bath in a tub in a good amount of time, there was a bathtub at the townhouse, but he always felt bad anytime he used it. 

Now there was no one to make him feel bad for anything, though. He told himself that several times a day, and rationally he knew he was worrying over nothing. But old habits die hard, and he’s thankful that his bad habit isn’t _physically_ damaging him- he could be a chainsmoker or an alcoholic. He’s not, though, instead his newfound self-awareness is weighing on his back like a 100 pound rock. He figures it’s a natural progression; getting a therapist, actually talking about his issues and taking steps to better his life. 

Surely it couldn’t all come without a price, and in his case, it’s a dreadful awareness of trauma. 

For the longest time he hadn’t been sure why he felt so sedated all the time. But now he was aware of it, at least! So why wasn’t it gone yet? 

It seemed like in every single book and TV-show as long as you knew what the problem was, then it was over. He feels stupid for expecting his life to be like a piece of media, _but_ it would be so much easier. 

He had addressed the root of the problem, he had divorced Myra, he was a free man. So why doesn’t he feel better yet? 

He can’t give himself any meaningful answer.

Either way, Eddie waits for the tub to be half full before getting in. It is entirely too hot but he gets in anyway. He sits through the temporary pain (mild as it is) and lets the tub fill up around him. 

He sinks his head underneath the water and it feels like a comforting embrace. He wants to stay there. Every single crease and fold in him seems to get smoothed out, just for a bit. His face relaxes and he lets himself enjoy this, even if it doesn’t last forever. 

  
  


When he does get out of the tub it’s around 10PM, he puts on an oversized t-shirt to sleep in and walks to the living room to see if anyone else is awake. 

They’re not, except for Stanley who is on his usual spot on the couch, with a book in hand. They acknowledge each other and say a quick goodnight before Eddie goes back to his room, ready to sleep.

\--

Eddie is jolted awake when there’s a knock on his door. In his tired haze he rolls over on his bed, hoping he’d hallucinated the sound. But it persists, and soon enough there’s the sound of a door being opened and a quiet:

“Eddie.”

Eddie is startled to say the least, and sits up in bed before recognizing the voice as belonging to Richie. 

“What are you doing?” He whispers back, even though he knows he doesn’t need to whisper. “What time is it?”

“I can’t sleep. Also it’s like 2AM.” Richie explains, and turns on the light, making Eddie wince his eyes shut in return. 

“And I have to suffer because of that? It really sounds like your own fault.”

“It’s completely my own fault.” Richie confirms and the two go quiet.

“So, what do you want from me?” Eddie asks.

“Do you want to go look at the stars with me?” 

“That is such a weird request.” Eddie comments.

“Pleaseee, Eddie, I’m so bored and I want some fresh air.”

“What about fresh air? I know you’re just gonna smoke.”

Richie pauses. “Maybe so.”

“Do you really need me for company to smoke a cigarette? Go alone.”

“Noooo! I’ll get bored. “

“Then go back to sleep if you’re bored.” Eddie pulls the covers over his head, rolls over and away from the doorway, where Richie is currently standing. 

“Please, Eddie, just 10 minutes.” Is Richie’s final plea.

Eddie doesn’t know why but he gets out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweatpants.

“Fine.. but 10 minutes _only_.” He stresses.

“Not a second longer.” Richie confirms, with his usual shit-eating smile on his face that Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes at. 

They walk past Stan as they make their way outside. He’s currently sitting on the couch with a book in hand and doesn’t question it when they move past him to go outside. 

\--

The air outside is cold, Eddie figures that it’s normal for it to get cold outside during the night, but not to _this_ cold. The exposed skin of his arms and ankles feel it instantly, and if Richie wasn’t 30 feet ahead of him he would’ve gone back inside. Alas, Richie is running towards a big clearing of grass, barely lit by the moon and he plops down onto it with the excitement of a child just being told they were going to Disneyworld. 

It’s then Eddie feels a sting on his right arm, and instinctively he smacks at it- knowing what it is. 

“Richie, there’s fucking mosquitos everywhere.” He groans as he sits down next to Richie on the grass.

“So what? They’re just trying to eat.”

“I’m not gonna risk getting a fucking bloodborne disease just because you wanted to look at stars-”

“Well, you’re the one in a t-shirt.” Richie shuffles, takes off his hoodie (revealing a t-shirt underneath, thank God) and throws it to Eddie. “At least cover your fucking arms.” 

Eddie huffs and shrugs on the hoodie, it’s noticeably too big on him, but at least his arms are covered now. He mumbles a: “Thank you.” and looks up, and sure enough, the stars are shining brightly- more so than in New York, anyway. It was something he never really knew he was missing until he was out here, in the middle of nowhere where the stars were so bright and there wasn’t any smog or noise from traffic. It was way too quiet, but he figured he could get used to it. 

“That’s the big dipper.” Richie states, pointing up at the sky, and Eddie tries to spot whatever he’s pointing at. Sure enough, there it is, the big dipper.

“Wow.” Eddie responds, genuine awe in his voice.

“And that’s the big dipper- And that’s the big dipper aaand that’s the big dipper.” Richie keeps going, pointing to various places, not even looking where he’s pointing.

“You’re like a broken record; not every constellation is the fucking big dipper.” Eddie huffs.

“How can you be sure they’re not all the big dipper and that the government has been lying to us all along.”

“Because science has literally proven there’s only one big dipper.”

“Well.. Science is a liar.. Sometimes.”

“Sure it is.” Eddie rolls his eyes with a shrugs and scoots closer, eventually leaning on Richie for support. The other doesn’t budge. His hands are beginning to freeze and he puts them in the front pocket of the hoodie he’s currently borrowing. He doesn’t know why, but his heartbeat is speeding up. 

They stay like that for a minute or two, before Richie speaks up:

“Let’s go somewhere.” He’s already getting up from the ground and offering him a hand.

“What? Like, right now?” Eddie takes Richie’s hand and he’s pulled off of the ground.

“Yeah, I have to show you something.”

Eddie raises a brow, but Richie is already walking and he can’t do much to stop him. He follows suit, and they walk for what feels like 10 or 15 minutes before they Richie stops dead in his tracks. They’re on the track they jogged with Bev earlier, and before Eddie can say anything, Richie is pushing his way through trees, off of the track. 

“Rich? Where are you going?” 

“Wait a minute, I need to make sure you don’t slip and fall.” Is the response and there’s another minute of walking before Richie reappears from the trees. “Okay, it’s safe, follow me.”

Eddie has no idea what he’s going to do. 

“If you’re plotting to kill me, doing it on a trip like this is horrible- there’s going to be obvious faults in your plan, Stanley was still up when we left- he saw us leave together.”

“I’m not gonna kill you, Eds, relax.”

“I’m relaxed.” 

They stop walking and they’re almost right by the edge of the lake. 

“Here we are.” Richie states and says nothing else.

“What is there to see?” Eddie asks in confusion. 

“Scream.” Richie says. 

“What? I told you if you’re some serial killer your plan is-” 

“Just try it. Scream.” Richie insists.

Eddie looks back and forth from Richie and out to the lake, he hesitates before letting out an awkward yelp.

“No no no! Not like that! Come on Eddie just fucking- just fucking scream! Yell at the top of your lungs!” With Richie’s encouragement, he does.

His throat clenches shut and he lets out a scream that echoes over to the other side of the lake, into the woods and far beyond what the two could ever imagine. He can’t explain why, but it feels good, it feels so freeing and he wants to jump and dance and cry with pent up emotions worth longer than there have been stars in the sky.

  
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Richie asks, scratching the back of his head before lighting up a cigarette.

Eddie nods carefully, almost scared of his answer. “Now it’s your turn, Rich.” His voice is slightly hoarse and hearing himself catches him off guard.

Richie laughs and screams, too, into the night. 

And then they both just scream in unison, hearing their voices echo through the forest. Eddie’s never felt like this before. After they’re done, and silence once again falls over the lake, they look at each other, sharing a quiet moment. He doesn’t know why, but he feels compelled to say something, anything. He lands on:

“I’m really happy we’re friends.” He says, but it feels like there’s a lot more left unspoken.

“Oh..!” Richie blinks in surprise. “Me too, Eds.”

It takes a moment, and they both hesitate but Eddie eventually leans in and embraces Richie. They stay like that, quietly holding each other until…

“OW- Shit!” Richie curses under his breath and withdraws from the hug.

“What’s wrong Richie?”

“I just- Uhm. I burnt my finger on my cigarette.” He explains and Eddie can’t help but laugh.

“You are so fucking stupid.” He says it like a love confession. 

“Shut it, spaghetti man.” Richie mumbles for once them to hear, not that anyone else could. He pulls him back into a hug. They stay like that again, neither of them knowing what comes next.

There’s a solitude to it, but not a trace of loneliness. Eddie’s heart is beating in his chest and he barely registers anything until Richie lets out a harsh, awkward sob.

“Are you crying?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? These are- They’re good tears. Jesus Christ this is embarrassing; crying in front of you.” Richie explains wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand.

They pull out of their hug and Richie takes one last drag of his cigarette and throws it on the ground, Eddie frowns in response. “Are you serious?” He exclaims.

“Right in front of me? You have some nerve, Tozier.”

“Oh, come on. Cut me some slack.” Richie laughs and pulls Eddie into another hug- it feels awkward and distant. 

“I’m being serious! You could start a forest fire!” Eddie pushes back against Richie and they wrestle for a few moments before giving up and collapsing on top of each other, and rolling over to lay on the ground, feeling the soft (but cold) grass pressing against them.

They fall into silence and Eddie thinks to himself that the stars are shining twice as bright as they were before, and that red might be his favorite color.

( 2.5 )

( “I’m really happy we’re friends.”

Richie doesn’t know why, but it hurts to hear him say it.

That’s a lie. He knows why. )

3

Stanley Uris is sitting on the couch in the living room. He’s sitting cross-legged, reading through the only book he brought along for the trip, a cup of earl grey tea is next to him on the sofa table. 

He’s sat there for hours but for some reason an overwhelming feeling of sentimentalism takes over his body. 

He doesn’t know why. 

Time passes by quickly, and he sits there, reveling in the feeling until it passes. 

He doesn’t even look at the clock when Eddie and Richie come back inside, there’s no need to. He says goodnight to them as they pass by him, walking through the living room, towards the hallway and into their rooms. He figures he should be heading to bed as well, they have a long drive home tomorrow. He’s ready to get up from the couch when Richie reappears from the hallway, standing in the doorway and waiting for Stanley to acknowledge his presence. 

“You’re not going to bed?” Stanley slowly blinks, putting in his bookmark and closing the book. Richie replies with a weak shake of his head as he gets into the couch next to Stanley. 

Richie leans against Stanley, who wraps his arms around him. He can tell Richie is upset about something, but isn’t expecting him to actually tell him.

“You’re so cold.”

“Yeah, I am.”

Richie usually doesn’t tell them his genuine feelings. Stanley figures it’s just been easier for Richie to fit into the same role he’s had his entire life; opening up isn’t something he does often- if at all. Stanley isn’t stupid, though, he puts two and two together and has a vague idea of why Richie might be feeling down. He thinks it might have something to do with Eddie. 

Richie accepts the embrace and sighs deeply. Stanley kisses his forehead and they stay like that for a bit, offering comfort to one another in the way they’ve done since childhood.

“Stan..?” Richie eventually breaks the silence.

“Mhmm?” 

“I think I’m gay.”

Stanley would be lying if he said he hadn’t had had his suspicions. Even if Richie never formally had come out to any of them, they all knew. It was silently agreed upon. But this isn’t the time or place to tell him that, though, this is Richie’s moment- he’s not going to make it about himself. So instead he replies by squeezing Richie just a bit tighter. Stan knows he isn’t a person of many words, and thankfully Richie knows what he means, because he mumbles a low: “Thank you.” And they fall into silence again. 

Richie doesn’t cry, and the next time Stanley opens his eyes, the sun is rising yet again.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you like it? did you hate it? please comment! or send me a dm on twitter @dansk_javlen or on my cc https://curiouscat.me/dansk_javlen
> 
> also: CHP4: "Trying to put words to how Eddie feels about Richie is like asking someone to describe the color red: Sure, it’s easy enough to start with: it’s warm, it’s like fire, but it’s also the color of roses and strawberries, and a particularly beautiful sunset, but after that it becomes more abstract. Everyone knows what red is and what it feels like. But what is red? How do you describe it? And is the red you experience the same as the one everyone else experiences?   
> They’re questions Eddie doesn’t want to begin digging into. Because he knows what red is."
> 
> CHP6: "Red might be his [Eddies] favorite color."


	7. the world's a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i swear from now on the chapter updates will take a bit longer, i just. i had all of this typed out already and i might as well post it because it might be my favorite chapter so far.
> 
> chpter title by billie eilish again! this time from: ilomilo  
> with how many of her songs im using for titles, i should start paying her adsense
> 
> THIS IS WHERE THE PINING BEGINS LADS!!

1

The car ride home is full of excitement as Richie sits on his phone, eagerly awaiting signal. The coverage is spotty, but Richie has been idly scrolling through his phone and almost jumps out of his seat when he sees a (very) familiar face on his timeline.

“Top 3 up-and-coming stand-up comics in New York City! And there’s my fucking headshot! Holy shit!” Richie practically shoves the phone in Eddie’s face, who lifts his foot from the gas to glance at it for half a second before putting his attention back on the road. 

“Let me see.” Says Mike from the back seat, as Richie proudly hands him his phone. It’s only after 30 seconds that he speaks up again, unable to keep still in his seat. 

“Hand it back hand it back let me read the article!” He pleads, and Mike hands him his phone back.

“Jesus, the coverage here is so shitty.. Come on, come on, go go…” He mumbles under his breath as he waits for the article to load. “YES! OK... Let me see.. Richie Tozier... Number one!! Yes! Richie Tozier opened up for John bla bla bla bla….”

Bill and Mike chuckle in the backseat. 

“His opening set was only 10 minutes long but people who were lucky enough to see the impromptu opener were left wanting more, and so were people who didn’t get to see it. There are no definite plans for Tozier to perform any sets in the near future, but you might catch him at open-mics around New York City, so keep an eye out!”

There’s silence in the car as Richie reads through the article again, double checking he isn’t dreaming.

“Does this mean I made it?”

“Sure sounds like you’re on your way, Richie.” Bill says with a knowing glance.

“That’s so great, Rich, I’m so happy for you.” Mike adds.

“Am I gonna need a proper fucking manager now?” Richie ponders. “I mean, surely I can’t represent myself..”

“No, representing yourself is a bad idea. Do you want any references for managers? I have a few-” Bill asks. 

“Wait I have an idea-” Richie interrupts Bill before he can finish his sentence. Eddie sighs.

“What idea is that?”

“You could manage me, Eddie! You’re so professional, you’d make some money on the side, too!”

Bill ponders but eventually speaks: “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“Heh, I don’t know how good I’d be.. I’d probably ruin your career before it even takes off.” Eddie shrugs and makes a left turn down the road, following the GPS.

“I trust you! At least until I find someone else. I need to get out there as soon as possible, while this article is still hot.”

“Okay, I’d be happy to, but only until you find someone else. Also I’m not doing anything official without a proper contract.”

“You got it, Eds!”

\--

It’s the following day when Eddie brings in a contract for Richie to sign. It seems very official, especially considering they’re friends. But Richie understands why he wants one, and he’s not going to complain when Eddie spends 30 minutes going over everything to make sure Richie hasn’t misunderstood anything. 

Seeing another side of Eddie is strange, he’s usually professional, but this is on another level. He takes his job very seriously, and it doesn’t really feel like Eddie. 

He supposes it’s good he knows how to keep his personal and professional life separate, though. He wouldn’t expect anything else from Eddie.

\--

It’s two days later when he gets a text from Eddie. He’s half-awake in bed, falling in and out of sleep on one of his days off. 

[8:43AM] Eds: Are you free Friday and Saturday? I’m about to close a booking for two shows but I need to know if you can make it. It’s the same venue two nights in a row, by the way.

Richie yawns as he types his reply:

[8:44AM] YOU: im free both days

[8:45AM] Eds: I also need you to bump up your set up to 20 minutes; it’s going to be part of a showcase of different artists. I’m making sure you’re number 3 out of 4. Statistically speaking you can’t come in too early or people will forget your set by the end. You can’t be the last person, either because it’ll feel anti-climatic. You want people to go “I miss that Richie guy” as they’re watching the final set. 

[8:46AM] Eds: Do you have any questions? I’ll send you the location in a minute.

[8:49AM] YOU: no questions! 20 minute set? i might have something up my sleeve

[8:55AM] Eds: I knew you would :) !

A ‘:)’ emoji has never made Richie’s heart skip a beat before. Not once in his entire life. 

He figures there’s a first for everything, though. 

Everything seems to go by much quicker than Richie is used to after that. He manages to bump up his set to 25 minutes (including an extra bit in case the audience wants more- they do). He throws in some easy jokes about a girlfriend he doesn’t have to pad the time and it pays off. People seem to like him, or- well they seem to like the parts he shows, at least. 

As soon as he comes backstage from his set Eddie is confirming another booking for the next weekend already.

“Man, you really get shit done, huh?” Richie comments as he changes into sweatpants and pulls his hair into a short ponytail. 

“I’m on payroll, it’s my job to get shit done.” Eddie responds. “Also you should get a haircut soon. It looks like a… mop.”

“Is it _also_ your job to insult the way my hair looks?”

“No, I just felt like it.” Eddie says with a smirk and a wink and Richie has to go outside for a smoke after that to collect his thoughts.

Collecting his thoughts is second nature by now. Ever since they came home from the weekend trip, Richie has had to keep himself from accidentally saying stupid shit around Eddie. He’s sure one of these days something’s gonna slip out, but not today - and not tomorrow either. He finds himself in daydreams often, a few are about Eddie. 

…

_Correction: Most are about Eddie._

Some of them are about that night at the cabin, reliving the feeling as much as he can before remembering how it ended. 

_“I’m really happy we’re friends.”_

He wants to scream when he thinks about it. God he’s so pathetic. He knows what’s happening to him and he can’t do anything to stop it.

He likes Eddie so much.

To the point where he wants to scream it from the rooftops, so everyone in New York City would know. No, fuck New York City, he wants the world to know. He wants to carve their fucking initials into every single surface he can find, so everyone can see that Richie Tozier was here and that he likes Eddie Kaspbrak. He likes him so much.

But he can’t tell anyone that. All of that must remain a fantasy; one that he becomes more and more ashamed of the more he thinks about it.

Eddie isn’t even gay, he’s pretty sure. 

Richie isn’t even out as gay, and even if he was- he shouldn’t feel this way about a friend. A friend that’s definitely dealing with his own shit right now.

So he keeps all of his feelings locked inside, and then one day he’ll die. And his secret will still be safe.

2

_He realizes he’s double-booked Richie too late. Richie is currently on stage and he has just received an angry text from another venue, wanting to know where Richie is. He frantically tries to type an apology but it’s too late, and now Richie is standing in front of him._

_“Water please.”_

_Eddie hands him a bottle of water._

_“Richie I- I’m sorry; I double-booked you. We’re running late but if we grab an uber we can still make it to the next venue, it’s only a few blocks away.” Eddie is searching for his coat and is already looking for a driver._

_“No, Eddie. This is your responsibility. Do you even know what this is going to mean for my career? You could’ve ruined everything for me.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“You better be. Why did I ever think you could do this job? You’re fired, I hate you.”_

Eddie wakes up in a cold sweat, with ragged breathing and a feeling of dread. 

“It was just a dream.” He says, trying to convince himself. “You’re fine. He isn’t mad at you.”

He rolls over in bed a couple of times, closing his eyes shut in an attempt to go back to sleep. Sleep doesn’t come. He lies still, thinking. _Did_ he double-book? He reaches for his phone and checks his calendar. 

He didn’t. 

Still, he finds himself face-to-face with the message app soon enough, open on Richie’s contact. He clicks on the box to type and his fingers linger over the screen. The idle animation mocks him; that one line that just keeps appearing and disappearing as it waits for you to type your message, it’s urging him on. 

_Calm down, it was a dream. He’s not mad at you._

He doesn’t text Richie.

\--

Good news comes in the group-chat soon enough. It comes in the form of a single attached picture and a message that reads: 

[3:30PM] Patty: Soon enough I’m going to be Patricia Blum Uris! 

The picture is of Stan and Patty together, they’re out under **the** open sky and Patty is holding up her hand, proudly showing off an engagement ring. There’s a daisy in her hair, tucked behind her ear and they’re both showcasing big smiles. 

Replies come soon enough.

[3:31PM] Bev: OH MY GOD!! You both look so beautiful I love you two so much <3 

[3:34PM] Mike: Congratulations you two! <3 

[3:37PM] Ben: Congrats guys! I’m so happy for you.

[3:40PM] Richie: took you long enough stanley, i kid i kid. youre gonna be such a great couple

[3:45PM] Stanley: thanks guys! let’s get together soon 

[3:49PM] Bev: I’m thinking dinner and wine? 

[3:52PM] Bill: Eddie, aren’t you holding your housewarming soon?

He supposes he is. 

[3:55PM] YOU: I mean my apartment isn’t really big enough for proper dinner for 8 people. 

[3:57PM] Richie: so we go have dinner at a restaurant and then pop back to your place to get a few drinks and hang out on your couch.

[4:00PM] YOU: I mean if Patty and Stan don’t mind, I don’t want to take away from your guys’ engagement party. 

[4:05PM] Stan: something small is gonna be perfect, actually. both our families are definitely gonna throw a big seperate thing, anyway. 

[4:06PM] Stan: would be nice with a little get-together with all of you.

[4:08PM] Bev: It’s settled then! Dinner at a restaurant and drinks at Eddie’s apartment! Two-in-one! 

Eddie supposes the plans are made then.

Then it hits him his apartment is still empty. 

Eddie then supposes he should go furniture shopping. 

\--

Eddie is back with Amber soon enough. She’s gotten a haircut, he notices. He takes a look around her office, well-known by now. He’s found himself staring at one particular spot on the wall a couple of times now, it’s just a small mark, but apparent in contrast to the off-white wallpaper. Sometimes he’ll zone out, getting lost in it. 

But now it’s covered up by a photo-print of the ocean. Eddie wants to comment on it, but he doesn’t.

“So, Eddie, how was the trip? Did everything go alright?” Amber asks, taking a sip of her cup of tea. They’ve gotten more casual over the months that have passed since Eddie started going to therapy. 

“Oh yeah! It went well! It was a lot of fun.” 

“I’m glad to hear, was there anything in particular you liked about it?”

“I think it was nice to get away for a bit.” Eddie shrugs. “There were so many stars.”

“Mhmm.” Amber nods, knowingly. “Did you and your friends do anything specific or did you just hang out for the weekend?”

“Well.. all of us went birdwatching, I went for a jog with Bev and Richie.” Eddie thinks. “We watched a movie together and then at night me and Richie went out to look at the stars.”

“Sounds nice. I think it’s good you’re going outside and getting out of your comfort zone.” Amber states. “Do you want to talk about your childhood today or would you rather focus on something else?” She asks.

“I was wondering.. Do you think I might be experiencing a quarterlife crisis?”

“What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know.” He admits. “I’ve just been thinking about what you asked me a while ago.. About me being straight.”

“Go on.”

“I don’t know anymore, I haven’t thought about it properly but the thought just keeps lingering. Like, what if I _am_ gay and I’m just finding out now? I’m practically 30, isn’t it too late for a realization like that?”

“Not at all, Eddie. Lots of people come out much later than 30.”

“But what if it’s just a phase I’m going through? Like a quarterlife crisis?”

“Sorry for the bluntness of what I’m about to ask. But rationalize why you think you might be gay.”

“Uhm- I don’t really find women attractive, I guess. They’re pretty, and on an aesthetic level I can appreciate them but I just- don’t-” His sentence trails off.

“And that’s a recent thing? You not finding women attractive?”

“No, I’ve been like that all my life.”

“I see.” Amber says, readjusting her glasses. “Do you think it’s a phase, then?”

Eddie thinks about it, he can’t respond with the answer he wants to tell her. 

\--

When he actually goes to look at furniture, it isn’t that bad. The stuff he likes is pretty average; sleek, modern, overall it’s not terribly interesting. He likes it nonetheless, though; it’s a polar opposite to his mom’s decorating style. His mom mis-matched antique furniture of all different types of wood and loved those ugly embroidered throw pillows everyone had in the 80’s. Eddie hated all of it. 

His childhood bedroom had all been light wood, all light-blue since when he was born. Nothing had changed throughout his bedroom through the years, aside from a bigger bed once he outgrew his previous ones. 

He settles on a dark brown pleather couch that seats 6. He has doubts about whether or not the purchase is right or not, even when he’s swiping his card. 

He buys it, though. And when it arrives at his door, he hangs up his abstract painting over it, painting his white walls with bright colors.

His apartment begins to feel like a home. 

\--

_They’re both in the waiting room at the hospital. Eddie doesn’t know why he’s there. Is he sick? He has been feeling drowsy lately, after all. He’s been having headaches, too. Surely it’s good he’s here to get it checked out._

_He blinks and he’s holding Richie, and they’re both crying._

_He blinks and Richie is laying in front of him, in a hospital bed._

_He blinks and Richie is gone._

_Gone, like he’d never even existed._

Eddie wakes up from his second nightmare that week. He feels utterly horrible and he wonders if it’ll ever stop. 

_Oh God, Richie._

_He’s okay, right?_

_It was a fucking dream, Eddie, you’re overreacting like always. You know this._

Eddie reaches for his phone and has to throw it to the floor once he realizes he’s about to call Richie. He doesn’t feel in control of his own body anymore, fuck, he needs to hear his voice. To know he’s okay. 

He slaps himself across the face.

“Eddie Kaspbrak. Don’t fucking call him. Do NOT call him.” He gets out of bed and navigates through his dimly lit apartment. “Jesus Christ..” He mumbles and walks to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

_You’re overreacting, you always do this. You make yourself worry over the dumbest shit and nothing ever ends up happening anyway. You get yourself all riled up for no reason and it’s infuriating to have to witness._ He doesn’t know whether he’s telling himself this, or if there’s a hint of Myra’s voice in there, too. At this point he doesn’t think it matters.

He takes a sip of his water and collapses onto the couch, thinking for a moment. He remembers an evening, about three years into his marriage with Myra. _He had been sitting at home, on his own and it was nearing 11PM. Myra usually never came home late without at least calling. He’d called her five times to no avail. He had checked the news, hands shaking. There’d been no reports of anything. No car crashes, nothing. But sometimes the news were late to report things, maybe a tragedy had happened with such a large scope that there was nobody to report on it. What if Myra was hurt, what if she was in the hospital? What if he isn’t listed as her emergency contact? He should probably call them, to hear if she’d come into the ER._

_But he didn’t get up, he sat there on the couch, alone._

_Until Myra came home._

_Eddie had practically jumped out of the couch and lunged himself into her arms._

_“Eddie? What are you doing?”_

_“Why didn’t you answer my calls?” Eddie asked, choking up. He couldn’t figure out why he was reacting this way._

_“You called me? Why are you crying?”_

_“I thought you’d gotten hurt.”_

_“I was out with my friends. Am I not allowed to go out for a drink with my friends?”_

_“No, no, of course you are! I’m sorry.”_

_“Why are you reacting like this? Evidently, I’m fine.” She huffed and shrugged off her coat._

_“I’m sorry I was just-” He pauses. “I was so worried.” He explains, but gets no reply._

  
  


Eddie doesn’t know what to make of the memory. 

\--

Patty and Stan get the Losers a reservation for a 3 course meal at a high-end restaurant. Eddie arrives as the last person, running late after his therapy session dragged on a tad too long. It’s raining outside and Eddie’s umbrella breaks after a gush of wind hits it just a bit too hard. So, he resorts to practically bolting down the street, desperately trying to avoid getting soaked. 

Rain isn’t very forgiving, though, and when he eventually does arrive at the restaurant he considers just not going in. It’s so embarrassing to be late, especially for something as important as a dinner reservation. He did it in high school, too. Whenever he knew he’d get marked late he would just sit outside the classroom until the class ended. At least that was less humiliating than arriving late. 

Alas, he can’t do that now, and instead he walks into the foyer of the restaurant. He approaches the host and asks for the ‘Uris’ party.

“Ah, it’s Eddie right? They mentioned you were running late.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“No harm done! Follow me.” They say with a smile plastered across their face as they lead Eddie to the table. As the losers spot him, Richie gets out of his seat and bolts to greet him with a hug.

“Spaghetti man! Jesus christ, you’re soaked.” He remarks.

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie laughs awkwardly. “My umbrella broke on the way.”

Richie gets seated again and Eddie goes around the table hugging everyone hello. Everyone is already halfway through their appetizers, and there’s an empty seat with an untouched appetizer, next to Mike and across from Richie. Eddie sits down and immediately starts eating, he’s not that hungry, but he doesn’t want to be a bother by making the group wait for him to finish eating in order to move onto the main course.

He doesn’t really register what the others are talking about, only casually laughing along with the others when someone (usually Richie) tells a joke. 

Patty eventually (after much urging by Ben) tells the story of how Stanley proposed. 

“We’d been back at the cabin just to have some time together, you know? What did we even do, Stan? Just went for a hike in the woods all Saturday, right?”

“We just went for the hike, yeah.” Stan confirms.

“It was really nice, the fresh air and everything. And Stanley had been collecting flowers all-day long, just picking out a bunch of different ones to bring home.”

“Yeah I was gonna press most of them.”

“And I, almost absentmindedly, mentioned how my favorite flower is a daisy.” Patty continues. “And then we go back to the cabin and watch a movie together and all of that. And then the next day we were just sitting outside, enjoying the last peace and quiet before we were gonna drive home.”

Everyone at the table goes quiet, attentively listening.

“And Stanley just comes up behind me, he tapped my shoulder and handed me the ring, with a daisy wrapped around it. And then he asked me if I wanted to marry him.”

“Wait, he just handed it to you?” Mike asks with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I forgot you were supposed to get down on one knee.”

“You forgot practically the most important part! Stanley, oh my god.” Richie laughs and Stanley rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“What did you say after being, then?” Bev asks.

“She said no.” Stanley adds bluntly. 

The table breaks into laughter.

\--

3 hours later and they’re moving on towards Eddie’s apartment. It’s still raining outside and everyone has (or is sharing) an umbrella. Eddie steps out into the rain and **is?** walking alone at the front of the line, guiding everyone to his apartment complex. There’s small-talk happening behind him that he isn’t participating in, he’s only focused on how cold and wet he is- except he doesn’t want to bother anyone by asking for an umbrella, since all of them are in use.

Until he suddenly doesn’t feel a single drop of rain hit his skin. He looks up and Richie is next to him, sharing his umbrella.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, only looks at him. 

“I’m only doing this so you don’t get a cold. If you got sick I’d _never_ hear the end of it.” Richie elaborates, rolling his eyes jokingly.

“Shut up.” Eddie huffs, but walks a little closer to Richie, his hand occasionally brushing against the taller man's side. Neither of them comment on it

Thankfully, Eddie’s apartment complex isn’t very far away. It’s only a 10 minute walk until they’re all there, hurrying inside in order to get away from the rain (which has by now turned into a downpour).

“Now, I must warn you guys it’s really not that big.. Might be a tight fit.” Eddie says as they cram themselves into the elevator.

  
“You’ve said that 4 times now, Eddie.” Mike comments. 

“It’s true, though.” Eddie shrugs. Once they’re all in the elevator he presses the button for the 23rd floor. His eyes glance over the _“MAXIMUM WEIGHT: 6-7 people”_ sign that hangs above the digital display. He knows they are one person too many for that. Eddie looks over the group and his eyes land on Richie, who is talking with Ben. Eddie shakes his head and takes a breath. In spite of the cheerful chatter among the group, the 25 seconds it takes for them to arrive at his floor are tense.

Thankfully everything goes by smoothly, and they all manage to fit into the apartment without it being too crammed. Everyone manages to fit onto the couch, except Bill who takes a seat on the matching ottoman (Eddie bought it the day after he initially bought his couch). Everyone is talking happily and Eddie goes into the kitchen to get the bottle of champagne he bought for the occasion. He doesn’t know how a housewarming usually goes, so he did his best.

When he enters the living room he’s met with applause and excited cheers. He smiles awkwardly and struggles with opening the bottle for a few moments before it eventually pops off and he pours everyone a glass.

“Eddie, I don’t know why you kept stressing how small your apartment is! This is super cozy!” Bev says before taking a sip of her glass. “I really like your interior decorating style. Very sleek!” 

“Ah- Thank you.” Eddie smiles and takes a sip of his own glass, he managed to squeeze in on the couch at the very edge, but there isn’t a whole lot more space. 

Ben clears his throat. “Well, since we’re all settled now.” He pauses and hands his glass for Bev to hold. He reaches into his tote bag and pulls out a present, wrapped in colorful wrapping paper. “A little house-warming gift, from us to you.”

“Oh..! You guys really didn’t have to. I mean, we’re technically celebrating Patty and Stan-”

“Oh hush Eddie, don’t be so modest!” Patty interrupts. “Stanley and I have to spend the next month or more hearing congratulations from friends and family. We won’t feel left out just because we got you a little present!” 

Eddie blinks. “Ah, I suppose.. Thank you guys so much, this is so nice-” He pauses to breathe, already getting choked up. He feels stupid for being so overwhelmed at the mere idea of someone getting him a present. 

“Well, open it before thanking us.” Richie says. “You might hate it.” Richie adds; Stanley chuckles at the implication.

Eddie carefully unwraps the gift and it’s a set of knives. He blinks and takes a closer look at the branding. 

They’re global knives.

Eddie doesn’t know much about brands of knives (because why would he), but he does know that global knives are very expensive. Like, ridiculously crazy expensive.

“You guys..” Eddie says. “I can’t accept this, it’s too much.”

“We didn’t get the receipt so you’re gonna have to accept it, buddy.” Ben adds. “You’re getting really great in the kitchen, we thought you deserved some high-end knives.” He explains.

Even if it is kitchen-knives, Eddie has no idea how to feel about them getting him a somewhat personal gift. 

“It’s what you deserve, Eds.” Richie says.

“Thank you guys.. This is so kind.”

“No problem Eds!” Bev replies and pulls him into a hug. Everyone takes turns hugging Eddie, he thanks all of them individually and he has never felt so at home before. 

\--

Eddie finds himself glancing at Richie on four separate occasions. The first three he goes unnoticed, but the last time Richie looks away from Mike (who he is currently in conversation with) and the two catch awkward eye contact. Eddie looks away instantly, cheeks flushed (he tells himself it’s due to the alcohol in his system), he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and tries not to think about how embarrassing that was. 

(Eddie can’t tell, but Richie has been doing the exact same thing.)

They’re eventually all singing along to some old song that makes them feel nostalgic. Eddie is sure they’re gonna get noise complaints after tonight but he can’t bring himself to care. After a while he feels a tap on his shoulder and looks up to see Richie standing beside him, looking like he desperately wants to say something.

“Can we go out real quick? I need to, uh, smoke, and you need to come with so you can lock me back into the apartment after..” 

“I can just give you the keys-” Eddie offers.

“No, I’d rather you come with.” Richie coughs bashfully. “In case I lose them.” He insists. 

“Sure.” Eddie blinks and gets off of the couch. “We’ll be right back guys.” He addresses the rest of the losers and they all wave at the two as they leave the apartment.

They’re standing with 3 feet of space in between them in the elevator ride down to street level. 

“So..” Richie eventually says. “Your apartment turned out really nice.”

“Thanks.”

“I was worried you-” 

“You don’t think it’s not-"

They speak at the same time and both pause the second they hear the other speak.

“Shit, sorry-”

“No, I’m sorry. Go ahead.” Eddie insists.

“No it’s fine, you can go ahead.”

“I was just gonna ask-” Eddie pauses as the elevator doors open. “You think it suits me?” They exit out into the street and Richie pulls out a pack of Marlboro reds. It’s stopped raining by now.

“What suits you?”

“My apartment.” 

“I mean, it suits you fine, what do you mean?”

“I just- You know, I don’t know if I made the right choice with the couch and.. Stuff.”

“That is such a weird thing to worry about, Eds. Your apartment looks great.”

Eddie hesitates: “Thank you.”

“Sooo, really happy you ended up coming with us to the cabin.” Richie laughs awkwardly. “After the whole.. Disappearing thing.” He takes a drag of his cigarette.

“Hmm..” Eddie nods and rubs the back of his head.

“Sorry, you know, it was just kind of weird.” Richie immediately speaks like he stepped on a landmine.

“I had just gone through a divorce.” Eddie says.

“Yeah. Shit, sorry, Eds. I shouldn’t have-” Richie backtracks his statement and Eddie immediately feels bad.

“No- sorry. I shouldn’t have taken that tone with you- You didn’t deserve to get ignored like that.”

“Eddie..”

“What?”

“That’s what I mean.. You..” Richie pauses as he looks for words. “You always just.. Put the blame on yourself.. You didn’t do anything wrong. You just accept however people treat you.. I don’t feel like that’s healthy for you, Eds.” He shrugs, tone of voice completely calm (and if Eddie is being honest, hearing Richie talk like a civilized adult feels wrong).

“Wait what? When?” 

“Like that day we went out to eat together and you obviously didn’t want to go on the subway, but you did it anyway because you didn’t wanna tell me ‘no’. Or when you were having a bad time after that thing with your inhaler, and I asked if you wanted to go home and you said no.” Richie speaks calmly, trying hard to make every word clear. “I’m not gonna be mad at you if you tell me no, you know? I can’t stand watching you walk on eggshells around me. If you don’t want to do something or think that I’m being an idiot just like.. Yell at me or some shit. You don’t have to settle for putting everyone else’s needs first.. It’s okay to take care of yourself.”

Eddie blinks, unsure of how to respond.

“I- I’m not walking on eggshells around you! You’re practically the only person I don’t walk on eggshells around! Everyone else I’m so scared of making upset, but with you I feel like I can say whatever’s on my mind.”

“But are you saying everything that’s on your mind?” Richie asks.

“Of course not!” Eddie’s response comes quicker than he realizes and he regrets speaking the moment the words leave his mouth.

“Eds..”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna go.”

“Eddie, wait-”

“You know why I don’t say everything on my mind? Because I’m scared. I’m scared all the fucking time that I’m gonna let something slip out and you’re gonna hate me for it.” He says, and Richie is quiet. “I’ve gone my entire life not feeling like I have any agency over my life, over my feelings. Now that I do, it scares the shit out of me. You saw my apartment, Rich. I don’t think it’s ever gonna get any better for me. I picked apart every single thing I could find wrong with my life. My childhood, my marriage, _me_ , and I still feel like I’m unraveling more and more every single day. It’s not going to get any better for me. I’m stuck like this and I need to know how to be okay with that.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Richie remains quiet.

“I’m a lost cause, Richie. It’s gonna stay that way.” 

“Eddie..” 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, please tell the others I’m picking up more champagne. I’ll be back in 30 minutes.”

Eddie doesn’t know where he’s going, but he walks off without another word.

Richie can’t do anything but watch.

\--

Eddie walks and eventually he figures out where he’s going.

He’s at the townhouse. The home he shared with Myra. It looks the same, only there’s a big ‘FOR SALE’ sign. It’s bold, it’s red, and it’s accusing him of something.

It’s his fault she’s selling the townhouse.. He wonders how Myra is doing. Is she okay? Has she found somewhere else to live? Someone else to live with? 

He stays there, staring at his old house longer than should be comfortable, if only to make himself feel something, anything. Nothing comes, only the same sense of dread he’s felt ever since he left that one rainy afternoon.

He remembers that afternoon very well. And when he thinks about it, he still doesn’t know where to go.

\--

He picks up a bottle of champagne on the way back, he doesn’t know what brand he’s getting or even how much it costs. He swipes his card and tries not to think about it. It doesn’t matter, anyway. He just can’t come back empty handed. 

He’s back at his apartment exactly 30 minutes after he left Richie (even though he hasn’t kept track of the time himself). He takes a breath before entering and everyone seems genuinely excited to see him. He smiles and pops open the bottle and pours everyone another glass and they go back to singing songs that make them forget the current year.

Eddie forgets anything outside his apartment for a good amount of time, until he looks at Richie and instantly feels bad about how he snapped. 

_You overreacted._

_You’re such a burden._

_Richie is one of the people you care most about in the world, and yet you treated him so horribly._

Eddie takes another sip of his glass. 

\--

_Eddie is back at the townhouse, he’s standing 5 feet from the door, he can feel the artificial grass underneath his feet._

_Myra is standing in the doorway. She’s bidding him welcome._

Eddie wakes up with a high-pitched scream and forgets his nightmare mere moments after he sits up in bed. He only remembers the feeling. It’s weighing on him, digging into his core. 

_It’s not going to get any better for you._

He reaches for his phone and texts Richie.

_What are you doing, Eddie?_

[2:39AM] YOU: Are you awake?

_What do you think you’ll find in him?_

_This is a stupid idea. Come home._

It’s now that he recognizes the voice in his head. But he isn’t sure whether it belongs to his mother, or Myra. Maybe it belongs to both of them. Maybe there’s a hint of himself in there, too.

The answer is instant. 

[2:39AM] Rich: are you ok? im coming over

[2:41AM] YOU: Thank you.

\--

His doorbell buzzes at 3AM exactly and Eddie presses the button to let Richie in without even hearing his voice over the speaker. He’s been standing by his apartment door-phone for the last 10 minutes, barely registering the time as it passes.

He steps into the hallway as he waits for the elevator to arrive at his floor. The doors open in what seems like slow-motion, and Richie steps out and Eddie can’t help himself but run to hug him.

“I’m so sorry for earlier.” He says. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Are you okay?” 

“Let’s go inside.” Eddie says, taking a look around the dimly-lit hallway, he really doesn’t want to encounter anyone else by standing in the hallway (not that he thinks anyone is going to be awake at 3AM- but then again, this is New York City, you never know). 

The two go inside the apartment, and Eddie immediately doesn’t know what to do or say. “Do you uh- want some water?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” 

“Ok. Ok.. okay..” Eddie mumbles under his breath, starting to panic. It seems Richie immediately catches onto this, because he doesn’t hesitate to ask:

“Can I hug you?” 

“Please.” Eddie says, and finally breaks. Tears are building up in his eyes and he reaches out to embrace Richie before the taller of the two even has a chance. “I’m so scared, Rich. It’s not going to get better for me. I’m going to feel like this forever.” 

“It might not get better, but it’s gonna get easier. A little easier every day, and I’ll be beside you every step of the way.” Richie says, running his hands through Eddies hair lovingly.

“I can’t- I can’t keep depending on other people to keep me going.” Eddie says, voice muffled against Richie’s shirt. 

“Keep you going? I’m not getting you out of bed every morning. I don’t make you go to work. I don’t make you eat dinner. You do that shit yourself.” Richie says, squeezing just a bit tighter. “You’re stronger than you think.” 

Eddie remains quiet, and he hears Richie mumble a few words under his breath that he can’t quite make out. 

“I don’t deserve you, Rich..”

“Your bar is _very_ low if you think you don’t deserve _me_ of all people.” Richie laughs, pulling out of the hug just slightly to get a look at Eddie's face. “But I appreciate the compliment. Besides, I still need you to lock in that three-show booking, so I can’t get rid of you just yet.” He laughs again. 

“Hey!” Eddie snaps, but he can’t hide the smile on his face.

“Sorry.” Richie laughs again.

They talk with one another until they eventually fall asleep, side by side. 

In spite of the words spoken that night, there are many more that are left unspoken.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen... i got to use global knives on fruit while on an unnamed drug this past new years eve and it was probably the peak of my entire life and i am projecting that onto eddie here. global knives are fucking phenomenal. i am not kidding. try and see if anyone you know has a global knife and ask to cut some fruit with it. its an otherworldly experience. please. 
> 
> ANYWAY did you like this? did you hate it? let me know in a comment!


	8. if we were meant to be, we would've been by now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall i wish i had a proper explanation for updating late but ive literally just been playing fallout new vegas
> 
> shorter chapter! we're nearing the end!

1

When Eddie wakes up, he spends a good 30 minutes just lying still in the half-asleep dream-haze he finds himself in. He feels safe, comfortable. He’s barely registered that he’s sharing the bed with Richie. 

They fell asleep next to each other last night, not through a spoken agreement, but rather a silent one.  Neither said anything in protest, because neither objected to it. 

Eddie lies completely still, instinctually looking at Richie’s chest as it rises and falls. Richie’s hand is slung gently over his side, and Eddie feels bad for not moving.

It might be a bad time to realize it, but he might not be as straight as he has assumed himself to be.

He feels guilty. Here he is; a dirty queer taking advantage of his straight friends kindness. Richie came over at 3AM to comfort him, as a friend. And here he is. Lying next to him in bed, and Eddie is unsure how to feel about it. 

Richie is just his friend; Back at the cabin, Eddie said so himself. 

He catches himself reaching a hand out to run his fingers through Richie’s hair (unkempt from sleeping), and quickly stops himself before he can do anything. It feels like he’s infringing on domestic bliss, and he doesn’t deserve any of it. 

Acting on this would only make it real. It can’t be real.

He gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen, being careful not to wake Richie. He cracks open a few eggs and tries to distract himself by cooking breakfast. It doesn’t work. Every few minutes he catches himself thinking of Richie, currently asleep in his bed. He thinks about how he looks without his (way too big) glasses, about how his hair falls over his face and how peaceful he looks while sleeping. He lets out a sigh to relieve the frustration that’s growing in his chest: it doesn’t work. 

Eddie finds that frustration is a heavy feeling, one that lingers with you for much longer than you want it to.

He doesn’t need to pay much attention to be able to hear that Richie is approaching him with heavy foot-steps. “You’re cooking?”

“No.” Eddie responds, deadpan, gesturing to the fact he is currently flipping an omelette in his non-stick frying pan.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?” Richie laughs and walks past Eddie to the fridge. “Do you mind if I steal some of your apple juice?”

“No, go ahead.” Eddie says, hurrying to plate the omelette he was making and handing it to Richie before he’s left the kitchen.

“Here.” 

“Oh! Thanks.” Richie blinks and takes it, balancing the cup of juice and plate not-so-gracefully as he makes his way to the dining table.

They don’t speak much that morning. Just let quiet comments slip into the air, momentarily releasing tension. The light of the morning sun is shining through the apartment window, and it’s at that moment Eddie notices Richie’s arms are covered in hundreds of freckles. Like a constellation of stars, drawing him in. This is the first time Eddie yearns for something unknown; a feeling he can’t place, yet feels like he should know by now. 

They eat breakfast together and turn on the news, it’s already been a couple hours since they woke, when Eddie unlocks his phone to check his email.

“Rich..?”

“Yeah?”

“I have a request for a booking at some company holiday-lunch... It’s going to pay pretty well, they’re asking for 40 minutes but the content needs to be custom-written to fit the employees.” Eddie says, not looking up from his phone. “You can throw in some pre-written stuff to pad the runtime, but do you think you could do that?”

Richie thinks for a minute. 

“When is it?” 

Eddie reads through the email again. “In a month and a half.” 

“Sure, sign me up.” Richie says, and when Eddie takes a look at him, he can’t help the way his eyes linger on the light stubble Richie is letting grow out (he figures it’s not a look he’s going for, per se, just out of sheer laziness- Eddie isn’t going to complain though). 

He’s about to think that it looks good on him, but he stops himself from admitting it. Instead he opts for: 

“You really should get that haircut soon.”

“Aye aye captain.” Richie says and gets up from the couch. “What time is it, Eds?”

Eddie checks his phone. “Almost 11.” He says, looking in Richie’s direction as he walks into the kitchen to do the dishes. He doesn’t know if Richie has work; he has been taking less and less hours since he’s been getting booked more and more. If bookings continue like this, he might be able to focus full-time on performing. Eddie is happy for him. Finally doing something with his life thats letting him be in his element. It’s what he deserves. 

Eddie looks at Richie, roaming around the kitchen trying to figure out where everything goes. 

God, this is too domestic to not feel comfortable.

Comfortable in the way that makes Eddie feel guilty for even considering any situation where Richie and him are anything but friends. Not that he knows what else he’d want the two to be. He most of all wants to stay like this forever. These few cathartic moments that he gets to indulge in before feeling like burying himself alive when he reflects on what they say about him.

2

Richie and Eddie agree on a lot of things without verbally discussing them. Richie knows this because it’s the second day that Richie has been staying with Eddie in his apartment, and neither have commented on it. It’s been a week since Eddie closed the booking for the custom-written content, and he’s thankful for it (when he saw the fee that they were willing to pay for 40 minutes of content, he had to do a double-take), but writing a completely original set for people he had never met in his entire life was difficult to say the least. 

Richie is currently on Eddie’s couch, flipping through documents sent by Eddie, detailing incidents that he could potentially write about. This shit was a lot harder than he thought it would be, and everytime he wrote a bit, he was unsure of whether or not it made sense- let alone was funny. 

So he resorted to staying with Eddie everytime he wrote, trying out bits as he finished writing them. It’s not that he couldn’t write them at home- but Patty was practically moved in at this point and she didn’t really.. appreciate Richie’s sense of humor at times. It wasn’t like he felt unwelcome in his own home, but it was also just nicer to be around Eddie one-on-one. For reasons that he knew all too well, yet would never say aloud.

“Richie, can I ask you something?” Eddie says from the other end of the couch, and Richie raises his gaze to look up at him. Richie raises his brows and Eddie elaborates:

“You mentioned a girlfriend in your set a bit ago.” It’s technically a statement, but Richie knows it’s a question.

“Oh, yeah, I mean..” Richie pauses, his brain working overtime. It was a lie. A plain, obvious lie. An easy thing to write jokes about. Every single person Richie learned from or looked up to in the industry always talked about how much they hated their girlfriends. What’s that saying? Good artist copy, great artists steal? 

But in this case Richie knows that Eddie knows that he doesn’t have a partner- let alone a girlfriend. He knows this because Richie is terrible at keeping secrets and if he’d gotten together with anyone, Eddie would be the first person to know. 

Not that Richie is actively looking for a partner, anyway. 

But he doesn’t want to admit he’s a fraud, that he’d lie to fit in, he already has enough imposter syndrome as it is. Richie doesn’t know what to say, so he responds with a shrug and a raised brow and goes back to writing. Eddie doesn’t press the matter any further.

\--

Richie doesn’t go home to eat that evening, instead opting to order chinese takeout to eat with Eddie when neither of them feel like cooking. They sit on the couch, barely paying attention to the TV, playing what feels like 5 miles away. Neither of them say a word, instead slipping into a silence that seems to speak the things left unsaid. As they dig through styrofoam boxes filled with greasy deep-fried shrimp and gyoza, they revel in what they have. Nothing needs to change, and neither of them want to risk losing what they have now. So words go unspoken, soft glances are shared and it feels like they belong.

It’s around 11PM when Eddie goes to bed, leaving Richie in the living room to keep writing until he loses his motivation for the day and eventually lets himself rest. Richie’s mind is working overtime; going 90 miles a minute and he struggles to get every single thought and joke written down. He manages, though, snacking on cold leftovers from their dinner before getting ready to let himself sleep.

And then, almost without thinking, Richie climbs into bed next to Eddie, like it’s the most natural thing in the entire world. As he shuffles under the covers, his leg brushes against Eddie’s and he pulls back, as if the contact will kill him. 

This contact is different than the one he’s had with Bill, Stan or any other of the losers, for that matter. He’s never had an issue being affectionate around his friends- when words fail him, that’s usually the best option: it gets the point across and Richie doesn’t have to risk word-vomit and a fear of being misunderstood. Sometimes a kiss or a hug was just better at communicating what he meant. He’s held every loser's hand and he’s pretty sure he’s also kissed every loser at least once during the lifetime they’ve spent in each others company. 

But for some reason, when he looks at Eddie and longs to hold his hand, it’s different. It just feels different and Richie can’t comprehend why.. 

Until he remembers just how much he likes Eddie.

And then the guilt hits him. Here he is; a dirty queer taking advantage of his straight friend who’s emotionally vulnurable. He’s sleeping in his bed and practically living in his apartment and the longing is too much to bear for him. It makes him want to scream, cry, release emotions that have been pent up for years and years, only slightly relieved that night at the cabin when he came out to Stanley. It’s building up, though, and it feels like he might say or do something he’ll regret anytime soon.

So he crawls out of bed, and stops in the doorway when Eddie rolls over, half-awake and whispers.

“What are you doing?”

And Richie can’t give him an honest answer, because he doesn’t know.

So he resorts to what he always does. 

“You’re too fuckin’ hot man.. I can’t sleep, you’re like the sun or something..”

Eddie rolls over again and mumbles something Richie can’t make out. 

Richie knows it’s better this way. So he sleeps on the couch, with no blanket, and no Eddie next to him. 

\--

The following day, Eddie doesn’t seem to remember the exchange from the previous night, or else he‘s just choosing not to comment on it. Either option is fine, really. 

Eddie is asleep after collapsing onto his bed right after coming home from work, and Richie is prancing about the apartment trying not to make too much noise. It comes, literally, crashing down when he (in an attempt to make mac and cheese) drops a steel pot onto the floor. Richie yelps in surprise at the loud noise and quietly wishes himself away in sheer embarrassment. 

It’s 95 seconds after the crash that Eddie steps out from his bedroom. He’s in pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt and with his comforter wrapped around him. His hair is a mess and it’s clear to anyone that he’s still half-asleep. He stands still, looking at Richie and letting his half-lidded glance speak for himself. 

“Your socks.” Eddie says, pausing to yawn. “They’re not matching.”

And sure enough, when Richie looks down to his feet one sock is purple and the other is blue.

“It’s a choice.” Richie says, shrugging. He doesn’t have time in the world to care about the socks he wears.

“It’s a disgrace to fashion.”

“I am  _ the _ disgrace to fashion, baby.” Richie replies bluntly. He knows his outfits aren’t the most cohesive, but that’s what makes them appealing (that’s what he tells himself, anyway).

Eddie sighs and sits down on the couch, absentmindedly watching the TV as it plays reruns of an 80’s sitcom that was never really good. He doesn’t comment on the noise and it’s only after five minutes that Richie notices that he’s dozed off again. 

_ Man, he must be so exhausted,  _ Richie thinks, sneaking a quick glance at the sleeping Eddie. He moves back to the kitchen and continues cooking in silence. 

Eddie wakes up around 10 minutes later, just as Richie is about to wrap up. He doesn’t get up from the couch to eat, so instead Richie moves to the couch and they settle down to eat dinner in front of the TV (for the third day in a row).

“Here you go, I call it: Richie’s famous mac and cheese.” Richie says as he hands Eddie his plate.

Eddie manages a chuckle. “Well, I don’t know how famous it is.. I mean you’re practically my roommate right now and I’ve never even heard of it before.” He takes a bite, and for once it’s Eddie that has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. 

_He_ _probably_ _feels_ _super_ _smug_ _right_ _now_ , Richie stares blankly. 

\--

Richie goes back home after staying with Eddie for 4 days and 3 nights. The only reason for his departure is because his commute to work is 30 minutes longer from Eddie’s apartment, and it’s only a 5 minute walk from his and Stan’s apartment. Though he likes staying with Eddie, he appreciates getting to sleep 30 minutes longer before a 9 hour shift. Eddie seems the understand, because they go right back to their old ways of calling on the phone every night they’re not together. Sometimes they fall asleep on call, sometimes they don’t. 

\--

Richie is working the graveyard shift, tiredly taking sips of his energy drink and doing buzzfeed quizzes on his phone as he waits for anyone to need his assistance. The people in the diner would be a peculiar sight anywhere else in the world, but this is New York City; nothing surprises Richie anymore. A group of obviously high teenagers are digging into an ungodly amount of pancakes, a tired man in a suit is lazily finishing a serving of fish’n’chips and Edward ‘Eddie’ Kaspbrak has just entered the Sunset/Sunrise diner. 

Richie has to do a double-take, checking the time. It’s 2AM. Eddie usually isn’t out this late. Even so, he’s happy, like always, to see him. It’s been about a week since they last saw each other in-person. Eddie approaches Richie hesitantly, seeming like he doesn’t really know what to say.

“I uh--” Eddie pauses. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

“I can tell.” 

“So, I got you these-” Eddie hands Richie a plastic bag, avoiding eye contact. “Because if I went another day in my life, knowing your socks don’t match… I don’t think I’d be able to handle it.” He explains, and sure enough there’s a 5-pack of socks in the bag.

Richie laughs. “You’re the only person in the world who would show up at my job at 2AM to bring me socks.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“It is.” Richie says quietly, only for them to hear.

“Anyway.. I’m going to… go home to sleep now.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Sounds responsible.” Richie remarks.

“So, yeah.” Eddie says, hugging Richie goodbye before moving towards the door.

“Eddie-”

“Yes?” He turns around.

“Do you have any idea how bad plastic bags are for the environment?”

Eddie shoots daggers at Richie and flips the bird in his direction. Richie is standing with a smug grin on his face like normal. 

\--

The following morning, Richie decides he has to repay Eddie for the favor. He’s usually more fond of receiving gifts than giving them, but with Eddie... Richie just wants to hand him the entire world.

Of course, he can’t realistically offer Eddie the entire world. Instead he opts for a small potted cactus to sit next to the aloe vera plant he gave as a house-warming gift. 

It’s two days after being given the socks, that Richie is back in Eddie’s apartment, handing him the cactus. 

“Payment for the socks.” He says, carefully handing over the plant. Eddie accepts it with raised brows. 

“You didn’t need to pay me back, it was a gift.” 

“I know how gifts work.” Richie says with an overly sarcastic tone. “Then consider it uh-” He thinks. “Consider it payment for being my manager, then.”

“You literally pay me a salary.” Eddie says deadpan. “You are so stupid.” He says with a loving tone, chuckling under his breath. “Anyway, is this one of the soft or sharp cacti?” He asks.

“Oh it’s a soft one-” Richie says, reaching out to poke the spine of the cactus. 

He immediately finds out that it is, in fact, not one of the soft ones.

“Ah shit-” He curses under his breath and Eddie laughs in response. 

“Watch your fucking language!” He says, carefully placing the cactus on his dining table and grabbing Richie’s hand to blow on where he was stung. “Is that better?” 

Richie doesn’t know how to respond, so he remains quiet.

  
  


3

Soon enough, a single aloe vera plant becomes a cactus which becomes a touch-me-not plant which becomes a small bonsai tree. Eddie’s apartment is slowly growing into a garden, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

Eddie doesn’t know why Richie keeps bringing him plants, but he’s noticed a big change in his mood now that he has something to care for, so he doesn’t mind. It’s therapeutic, in a way. Coming home from work to a silent apartment full of life, having someone depend on you and most of all, knowing someone cares about you enough to bring you little gifts like this. 

It makes Eddie feel all sorts of different feelings. The most pronounced one is joy. 

He uses the 10 minutes he spends on watering his plants to reflect on his day. He goes through what he’s gotten done, how he’s felt and what he’s eaten. They’re like a second therapist to him.

He mentions it to Amber on their next therapy session, and she jokingly says: “Wow, you’re really looking to put me out of a job.”

“Maybe so.” He chuckles. 

“You’re looking a lot better off recently, Eddie. I can see what you mean by your houseplants having a positive effect on you.” She says. “Do you feel ready to set a long-term goal for yourself?”

Eddie thinks for a moment and nods, he’s been seeing her for months by now, and the next step might seem drastic, but right now feels like a good time to set a genuine plan into action.

“What do you feel like we should focus on? Self-perception? Your day-to-day life?” Amber asks. 

“Uh, focusing on self-perception might be a bit optimistic, heh.” Eddie admits awkwardly.

“I see.” Amber says. “Well, if I can bring a suggestion to the table, I think for you it’s a good idea to start detaching yourself from your past; your relation to your mother and your relationship with your ex-wife. Since that’s your main source of worry.” 

“Ah- Forgetting my past seems a bit… I don’t know… unrealistic?” 

“No, not forgetting. Detaching. Taking steps to distance yourself from it is incredibly hard, but important nonetheless. You didn’t deserve any of what happened to you, and from what I’ve picked up, you seem to carry a lot of the blame.”

“Ah yeah I guess so- Sorry.” 

Amber offers a smile. “I think, for a long-term goal, try not apologizing. Instead, say: _ ‘thank you’ _ .”

Eddie raises a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Instead of saying: ‘ _ Sorry I’m late _ ’, say  _ ‘Thank you for waiting’ _ . Does that make sense?”

Eddie supposes it makes sense. 

\--

His therapeutic state-of-mind comes to a crashing halt once Eddie wakes up from a dream that leaves him sweaty, confused and needing a cold shower. 

He doesn’t remember any details, just the way it made him feel. He’s ashamed to admit he lets his shower run for 15 minutes longer than it usually does. 

The guilt that comes after is overwhelming, and if Eddie wasn’t technically employed by Richie, he wouldn’t have minded not having to face him for at least another week.

In the week that passes, he can barely look Richie in the eye. 

Eddie thankfully has his usual hours at his 9-5 job to himself. He and Richie have a deal that Eddie isn’t allowed to let his side-job as manager affect his primary income; anything else would just be stupid. These hours are his breathing room, he likes his job, mostly he looks at stocks for 8 hours straight and has a few phone calls with people with fancy-sounding titles and that’s it. He hasn’t made an effort to make a lot of friends at work before. But for some reason, he finds himself approaching a lunch table with co-workers. 

He awkwardly asks if he can join them, and with an affirmative greeting he sits down and makes small-talk with people he’s worked with for several years. It’s all-in-all a good time, and Eddie does it again the following day, and the day after that.

\--

On a late Wednesday afternoon, Eddie drops by Bill’s apartment for an impromptu visit after work. He doesn’t know why his feet carried him there, yet they have. He regrets not texting Bill to ask if he was even home, much less if he could drop by. 

It’s too late for regrets now, though, because he’s just pressed the doorbell for ‘ _ W. Denbrough’.  _ There’s the characteristic sound of the door phone being picked up and a voice that expires over the intercom. It isn’t Bill, though. 

“Who is it?” Mike asks. 

“Oh! It’s Eddie, sorry I haven’t texted beforehand, I just wanted to pop by-“ He’s interrupted by an excited exclamation of: 

“Eddie! Come on up!” 

The door buzzed as it unlocks and Eddie opens it quickly, entering the apartment complex and making his way up to Bill’s apartment, where he’s greeted by Mike with open arms. 

“It’s so good to see you.” Mike says, already hugging Eddie. 

“Yeah, likewise.” Eddie smiles. 

The two go into the living room, still a mess of papers scattered across every surface. 

“I am so sorry for the mess, I would’ve tidied up if I knew you were coming-”

“No, no, that’s my fault for not warning you. Bill isn’t home?” He asks.

“He’s home, just taking his old-man nap of the day.” Mike says, already brewing tea for the two of them. “Otherwise he gets grumpy.” He jokes, and Eddie huffs out a small laugh.

“How are you feeling as of late?” Mike asks from the kitchen, Eddie feels too awkward to sit down just yet, so he doesn’t.

“Oh, I’m feeling pretty good. I think therapy’s been really helping, actually.” He says with a shrug that nobody sees. 

“I’m so glad to hear that, Eddie.” Mike says, exiting the kitchen with two mugs of tea ready. He hands one to Eddie, who takes a moment to notice the heat of the mug, how it warms his palms. It feels nice. “Is there anything you wanted to chat about?” Mike speaks again, sitting down on the couch.

He supposes there is. 

He’s not sure how to bring it up, though, so he opts for:

“How’s your thesis going?” 

Mike’s eyes light up at the mention of his thesis. “I’m so glad you asked, it’s going really well! I was in a really bad writer's block last week but it’s passed now and I’m just typing away for hours on end.” His enthusiasm rubs off on Eddie, who listens attentively with a permanent smile on his lips. “Bill has to remind me to take breaks to eat sometimes.” He admits sheepishly. 

“There is something else I wanted to talk about...”

“Shoot.”

“How did you kn-” Eddie begins his sentence but is interrupted as Bill walks out of his bedroom and over to the couch. 

“Did we wake you?” Mike asks,

“Nah, I was already up.” Bill replies and greets Mike with a quick peck on the lips. He offers a half-hug to Eddie who accepts it, before sitting down on the couch. “How are you, Eds? Did I forget we made plans or something?” Bill asks, cleaning his glasses.

“No, I just thought I’d stop by.” Eddie explains.

“Oh, neat.” Bill rubs his eye lazily, checking the time on his watch before turning to Mike. “Did you eat yet?” He asks and Mike shakes his head:  _ ‘no’ _ .

“Do you want to have dinner with us, Eds?” Bill offers.

“Ah, it’s fine I have leftovers at home that’ll go bad if I don’t eat them today..” It’s a lie, but Eddie feels like he’s intruding. He knows Bill and Mike can tell it’s a lie, too; Eddie is a horrible liar. But his defenses are up and he’s practically out of the couch before Mike can speak again. 

“Are you sure? It’s really no trouble.”

“Yeah, it’s fine, really.” Eddie insists, takes a last sip of his tea and shrugs on his coat again. “But let’s get together soon again, I’ll text you soon so we can arrange a thing.” He says, moving to the foyer and getting ready to leave. Mike and Bill follow him to the door to say a proper goodbye before he leaves.

He’s halfway through the door when he takes a deep breath, and speaks up again: 

“One more thing, before I go.”

Mike and Bill listen attentively. 

“How did you know you weren’t straight?”

Mike and Bill look at each other for a brief moment, thinking.

“You just know, I think.” Bill shrugs. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Yeah. For a bit I thought I wasn’t interested in dating anyone at all.” Mike speaks, and adds: “Until I met Bill, obviously.” He blinks. “Why do you ask?” 

“No particular reason.” Eddie lies. “Thank you guys, I’ll see you soon.” He waves goodbye to the two, puts his hands in his pockets and walks home. He lies awake for hours that night, in call with Richie where neither of them speak a word. They lie in their respective beds in silence, reveling in the feeling that lasts until either of them fall asleep.

\--

It’s  two weeks later  when the losers all meet-up for a pre-holiday meal at Ben and Bev’s house (like always). It’s only the first week of november, but the only evening they could all get together before the hustle and bustle of december. It’s a big meal and Ben’s really gone all-out with decorations throughout the entire house. It feels like a sterilized, perfectly planned mall-display; sleek, modern and a perfect fit for the Hanscom-Marsh’s. 

They’re making their usual small-talk across the table, the combined kitchen-dining room full of life and laughter. 

“What are you gonna do for Christmas, Mike?” Eddie asks. 

“Bill and I are going back to Derry.”

“Yeah we’re spending it with my parents and Georgie.” Bill elaborates.

“So you’re meeting the parents, and on Christmas? That’s a brave move, Mikey.” Richie cuts in, speaking while eating, as if he is scared the food is going to vanish from his plate any second.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.” Eddie pokes Richie’s side and Richie mumbles a: “Sorry mom.” 

“Jokes aside, they’re literally going to love you, Mike.” Richie takes a sip of his wine.

“If they put up with you from ages 9 through 18, they’re going to be just fine.” Bill remarks with a laugh, and Eddie laughs along.

Richie dramatically rolls his eyes and sighs and turns to Beverly, whom he strikes up conversation with instantly.

“What about you Stan? What are you and Patty doing for Hanukkah?” Mike asks.

“We’re going to be with my side of the family this year, right?” Patty says, turning to Stan, who nods. “Yeah.”

“What about you Eddie?” Bill asks.

“Ah- I don’t know..” Eddie feels the spotlight blinding him, he struggles to find an answer. “Normally I would celebrate with my ex-wife’s family but I think I’ll just stay home and watch a movie or something. I haven’t thought about it, actually.”

Bill nods. “What about you Rich? What are you doing for the holidays?”

“I don’t know man, getting shitfaced probably.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his glass. 

“How did I just  _ know _ you were going to say that?” Stan smirks.

“At least with Richie you always know where you have him.” Bev laughs.

Richie goes quiet for a moment and then clinks his glass. Eddie looks at Richie's hands, they’re shaking.

“So, you guys.” He starts.

“Are you going to give a speech?” Bill asks. 

“Uh, I guess. I don’t know I guess I just gotta.. Jump into it.”

“What?” Bev blinks.

Richie downs the rest of his glass. 

“So you guys.. I’m gay.”

There’s a stunned silence. Eddie feels like the world’s stopped moving. 

Richie is gay? Like, he likes men? Holy shit. An overabundance of emotions rush over Eddie’s core, he doesn’t even get the chance to say anything before Richie speaks again.

“Did you just know I was going to say  _ that _ , huh Stan?” He laughs, relieving some of the tension in the air.

“I mean, I already knew.”

“Stan already knew.” He repeats.

“What? When?” Bev asks in shock.

“Last night at the cabin. After Richie and Eddie came back from their walk.” Stan explains.

“I thought you went to bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep, I had a talk with Stan and it just kind of slipped out. It’s my silver tongue, Eddie.” Richie winks.

“So, what do we say in this instance? ‘Congrats’?” Ben asks. 

“Oh my God as long as you don’t fucking clap or some shit-” Richie seems to immediately regret saying that, because soon enough the entire table is clapping, the noise building up to a level that would be unbearable in anyone elses company. It’s fine here, though. It’s a home.

“So now Eddie is the token straight guy left, huh?” Richie laughs and Eddie nods awkwardly in response. 

“I suppose I am.”

“Hang on, I’ll get you a _ ‘get well soon’  _ card.” Richie rubs Eddie’s shoulder and the conversation soon shifts elsewhere. But Eddie can’t stop thinking about it.

\--

_ Richie Tozier is a gay man. _

_ Richie is gay. _

_ He’s gay and now Eddie has no idea what to feel. _

His bed feels too empty, and he clings to his pillow, guilt everywhere in his body. He feels alone but is reminded of Richie’s actual presence soon enough, when he breaks the 30 minute silence of their nightly phone call. 

“Man I’m so glad you’re not homophobic.” 

“All of our friends are literally LGBT, Rich.” 

“You can still be homophobic.”

“I don’t think I’d be best friends with a gay man if I was homophobic.”

Wait a minute.. Is he homophobic? Maybe this not-straight crisis he’s having is just him trying to have an excuse to be homophobic? He’s grown up in a rural middle-class mostly-white town, surely there’s bound to be some internalized homophobia in his system.

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie asks.

“You just did.”

“Shut up. How long have you  _ known _ ?”

Richie clicks his tongue. “Properly known I like guys since I was like 13. Subconsciously probably much longer than that.”

“And you’re 27 now.”

“Yup.” 

“Damn.”

“Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? You’re not the one who repressed my sexuality for more than half of my entire life.” 

“Still.”

“I’m fine, Eddie, it honestly just feels really great to be out to you guys. I don’t know if I’m going to come out to the public but, you know, baby steps.” 

“Please don’t come out to the public, God knows we need another straight white stand-up comedian.” Eddie says deadpan. “That was a joke.” He clarifies, just to be sure. 

“I know. You’re funny.” Richie speaks with a genuine tone in his voice. “Sometimes I swear you should be the one on the stage. I wish I was more like you, Eddie. You’re so fucking brave and you’re just.. So naturally funny, even more so than I. I envy you.”

“Oh.” 

“Sorry, showing feelings was very gay of me.”

Eddie laughs but stops after a second or two. “Wait, can I laugh at that? Morally?”

“As a straight man, you’re not morally allowed to do anything.”

“You know what, that’s fair.”

The two slip into smalltalk again and Eddie considers again: Is he homophobic? He thinks about Richie kissing a man and instantly there’s an air of malaise around Eddie. He doesn’t  _ want _ to think about it. Can you be homophobic when all your friends aren’t straight? He doesn’t feel like this when he thinks about Mike kissing Bill, so why does it hit him so hard with Richie?

He figures he’s in some way, shape or form, homophobic, surely there’s no way around it when his reaction to the thought of Richie kissing a man is  _ this _ .

Until he comes to a realization.

He doesn’t mind thinking about Richie kissing a man, as long as it’s him he’s kissing.

Eddie hugs his pillow a little tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did u like it? did you hate it? let me know in a comment!


	9. you'll never know if you don't know now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been 2 weeks since i last updated, huh! sorry im just not very motivated to write. im playing skyrim 8 hrs a day and working the rest. the grind never stops.
> 
> we're nearing the end!i think theres one chapter left plus an epilogue soooooo
> 
> chp title from youll never know - vera lynn
> 
> this fic also has a playlist with chapter song titles, and general stuff that reminds me of this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7MNutneVx6VdfexSe7ikk5?si=-4uyubahSnOT87sRLSmahA

1

Eddie doesn’t like his birthday very much. ‘Doesn’t like’ might be an exaggeration, rather he just doesn’t care for it. H e's never been one to enjoy the spotlight , and, if he’s being honest, birthdays are the dumbest reason for a person to be celebrated. You were born! And you’re still alive now! Hooray! The bar was low and Eddie would rather be congratulated on his actual achievements in life, rather than the fact that 28 years ago, his mother gave birth to him. 

He knows that this is most likely an unpopular opinion, though, and he keeps it to himself when someone  _ does _ wish him a happy birthday. He knows it’s common courtesy, it’s just a part of modern society that he’s had to adjust to, in spite of his own lack of understanding for why it required a celebration.

So needless to say, Eddie isn't preparing for a party and by the time November 11th rolls around, he's genuinely forgotten it's supposed to be a special day.

Until a coworker tells him happy birthday at lunch, and it sets off a chain-reaction. He tried playing it down; tried responding with a quiet: _“Thank you”_ , in order to get the point across that he isn’t particularly excited about the whole deal. It doesn’t work, though, and all his newly acquired friends at lunch all take turns congratulating him. 

“You really should’ve told us, we would’ve gotten you something.”

“It’s fine, really.” Eddie stresses. 

“Let’s make it up to you, we can go out for dinner or something.”

Eddie really doesn’t want to go.

“It’s fine, I actually already have plans.” He hates lying, but sometimes it’s a necessary evil. 

“Oh, what are you doing?”

_ Shit _ . 

“I’m- spending tonight with my partner.” 

_ He probably shouldn’t lie about something like that. It’s not right.  _

“Oh, that’s nice! You never mentioned you were dating again?”

“Again?” Eddie asks

“I mean, after your divorce.”

_ They know about that? _

“Oh..!” He doesn’t really know what to say, he figured it was normal enough to know about something like that happening. Word spread fast and it wasn’t  _ their _ fault for knowing. It was a small office, anyway, Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t know any of the gossip spread around. “Ah yeah, I’m back in the game huh?” He manages an awkward laugh.

“Anyway, at least let us buy you your lunch, then.” They insist. “As your present.”

“Ah- sure.” Eddie gives in. 

\--

The second instance of Eddie being reminded of his birthday is at 5pm over a phone call from Beverly:

“Happy birthday Eddie!”

“Oh! Thank you Bev.”

“Sorry I’m calling like this, I just vaguely remember you mentioning your birthday being today so I thought I’d call to hear how you’re holding up?”

“I’m doing really well, thank you.”

“So.. 27 years old, huh?”

“Yeah, ‘s crazy.”

“What are you doing to celebrate?”

“I’m not doing anything special, really. Might eat some food later.”

“Are you implying you don’t eat food on days that aren’t your birthday?” Bev laughs.

“Yeah, exactly. I’m like a vampire, eating one big meal a year and then going into hibernation.

“I don’t think that’s how vampires work, Eds-”

“Have you ever met a vampire?”

“I mean, obviously no-”

“Then how do you know that’s not how they work?” Eddie says deadpan, but burst into laughter for a brief moment after. “Sorry, I’m just pulling your leg.”

“I figured as much. Hold on-” There’s a pause. “Ben is telling me to say hi to you and wish you a happy birthday from him.”

“Tell Ben I said ‘ _ thank you’ _ .”

There’s another pause and Eddie can vaguely make out: 

_ “He says thank you.”  _

_ “Yes! Tell him thank you back..” _

Beverly is back on the line with a: “Ben wants me to tell you  _ ‘thank you back’ _ .”

“Right back at him.” 

“Haha, I’m gonna let you go now in order to not get us stuck in a feedback loop of you and Ben thanking each other. I hope you have a great day! Love you” 

“Thanks, love you too.” Eddie smiles and hangs up the phone. He takes a look around his apartment and walks over to his bonsai tree, sitting on the window sill. He feels like talking to it, but he doesn’t know what to say.

\--

The third instance of Eddie being reminded of his birthday is in the group chat. It’s 9pm and Bill sends the first text. 

[9:12PM] Bill: This is late, but happy birthday Eddie! 

Eddie doesn’t know why Bill decided to write it in the group chat. 

He hasn’t typed a reply out yet when the next message pops up:

[9:13PM] Stan: wait its your birthday? 

[9:13PM] Mike: Happy birthday !! <3 

[9:14PM] Stan: omg yea happy birthday eddie!

[9:15PM] Patty: Happy birthday :-) 

Eddie blinks. He doesn’t know why, but he’s waiting for another person to text him. The only person who hasn’t wished him a happy birthday. He feels stupid for caring so much about it, it’s not the end of the world. He’s ashamed to admit he waits at his phone for 15 minutes before putting it down and flopping down onto his couch. He’s not intending to fall asleep this early but soon enough he’s dozed off, dreaming about things he won’t remember in the morning. Blissful silence drowns out the apartment, only interrupted by the ticking of Eddie’s alarm clock. Until..

  
  


BUZZ.

  
  


Eddie jumps awake and barely registers where he’s going as he gets off of the couch. He’s still half asleep as he picks up the door phone, hearing a very familiar voice echo over it.

“Eddie! Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday!?” Richie practically yells.

Eddie is too tired to respond, so he just presses to unlock the front door and let Richie in. It takes the usual 3 and a half minutes for Richie to stand in front of the door to Eddie’s apartment and Eddie barely looks at Richie as he enters the apartment. 

“It’s almost midnight, Rich.” Eddie yawns and sits down on the couch, watching as Richie searches through a plastic bag. 

“Exactly! I can still make it.” Richie says, pulling out a small container and opens it to reveal..

A single cupcake. 

Eddie blinks.

Richie reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small candle and places it on top of the cupcake. Eddie is speechless. 

“Hold on..” Richie is completely focused as he lights the candle with his pocket lighter and proceeds to hold it out to Eddie. “Make a wish.”

Eddie hesitates for a moment before blowing out the candle. He doesn’t know what to wish for. So he wishes for a lot of things. None that he’ll admit, though.

“I can’t believe you showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night just to wish me a happy birthday.” 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me it was your birthday!”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?! Eddie, I don’t think you know how seriously I take birthdays. I was at work when I found out, thank God I made it in time! You’re 27 now! That’s something to celebrate!”

“It really isn’t-”

“Shut up and eat your fucking cake, Eds.” Richie huffs and walks to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water.

Eddie chuckles under his breath and takes a bite of the cupcake. It’s.. so sweet. Red velvet, he thinks. It practically hurts his teeth to bite into, but he lets himself indulge. The vague light of the street flows in through the window, flashing red and green. The city has a constant hum that serves as a soundtrack for this night. 

“This is.. So sweet.”

“Thanks, I try my best.” Richie grins.

“No, not you I mean the cupcake.” 

“Oh.” 

“But also you. I don’t really like my birthday a whole lot, but thanks for coming out.”

“How come?” Richie raises his brows and sits down on the couch, cross-legged next to Eddie. 

“It just feels redundant. What’s so special about this one day? I haven’t done anything special to earn a celebration..”

“Birthdays are..” Richie pauses. “They’re a celebration of life, of how far you’ve come. What’s not to celebrate about that?”

Eddie doesn’t know what to reply. 

“Anyway, my birthday is March 7th, don’t forget it.” Richie picks up the silence. 

“I’ll write it down.”  Normally he would only say this to be polite. This time he means it.

“Anyway, I’m off work tomorrow so I was figuring I’d just crash here for the night.” 

“Sure, I’m okay with that.” Eddie looks to the clock on his wall. 11:58PM. 

Eddie looks to Richie, who’s eyeing the cupcake Eddie’s taken a single bite out of. “You can have it if you want.” He offers

“No no- It’s yours I’m not gonna just take it from you. You can save it in the fridge.”

Eddie shoots him a glare. “Shut up and eat the fucking cupcake, Rich.” 

Richie makes a face and happily eats the rest of the cupcake. The two sit in each others company for around 30 minutes before heading to sleep. Eddie is laying alone in his bed, listening to Richie toss and turn on the couch. He has no idea why Richie has been opting for the couch the past few times he’s crashed at Eddie’s apartment. 

Eddie considers leaving it be, but something makes him get out of bed and head to the living room instead. From the doorway he sees Richie sprawled out on the couch, scrolling lazily on his phone.

“Just... come sleep in the bed, Rich.” Eddie rubs his temples.

“Are you sure- I mean, the couch is fine.”

“The couch is not fine, you’re going to wake up with a pain in your neck and I’m gonna hear you complain about how much of an old man you are tomorrow morning.” Eddie says, it’s a stupid excuse, and they both know it. “I’ll take the couch just please sleep on a proper bed, you’ve been working all day.”

“No, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch either.”

“Then..” Eddie gestures towards his bedroom and Richie crawls off of the couch, they both walk towards the bedroom, and soon enough they’re laying side-by-side. There’s a tense awkwardness that lingers in the air, before Richie breaks it.

“You’re a scorpio, huh.. Certainly explains a lot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean-” Richie pauses to turn to look at Eddie, even through the darkness in the dimly-lit room. “Your whole… everything. It screams scorpio.” 

“That makes no sense. Don’t tell me you believe in crystals healing powers, too.

  
“Hey! Just because your vibes are _awful_ -” 

Eddie smacks him with a pillow and the two share a laugh. They fall into silence again, and Richie turns around away from Eddie. Eddie hesitates before wrapping his arms around Richie. 

_ Try not to think about it. _

Richie doesn’t move, but Eddie can hear his breathing hitching at the contact. Eddie waits for a minute before Richie moves around to face Eddie again, neither of them speak as the two move closer together, ending in an embrace.

_ Try not to think about it.  _

Richie falls asleep soon after, but Eddie is awake for much longer. His thoughts are working overtime as he lies still, listening to Richie’s breath as the two are practically wrapped around each other. He’s way too hot like this, but he’s never been more comfortable.

This is when Eddie realizes you can love someone and not like them. Not regarding Richie, of course. Not regarding anyone currently in his life. 

Eddie loved his mother at one point in time. He feels horrible for admitting it, after everything. It makes him want to scream at himself; it makes him feel like all the progress he’s made has been for nothing. He doesn’t owe her anything, not forgiveness, not love. She’s not getting anything else from him. He’s done. 

Eddie loved his mother at one point in time but he’s happy she’s dead. 

Eddie loved his mother at one point in time but he didn’t like her. 

Eddie loved his mother at one point in time but he deserved so much better.

Eddie loves the sun, how it feels against his skin when he goes for walks outside.

Eddie loves his apartment, how it feels like it’s completely his own.

Eddie loves the stupid 80’s pop music even though he always makes fun of Richie for listening to it.

Eddie loves the losers, and he’s fairly sure they love him, too.

And most importantly, Eddie likes Richie. He likes him so much.

  
  


Richie and Eddie wake up in each others embrace, and neither comment on it. They eat breakfast together like they normally do and Eddie heads off to work, with a flush still present on his cheeks.

2

Richie has no idea how he managed to get this far without imploding. When he wakes up next to Eddie, in an embrace that would make anyone else think they were lovers, he has no idea how to process the information. He doesn’t comment on it, and thank God that Eddie doesn’t either. He doesn’t know what they are; he and Eddie. He thinks he doesn’t want to know, either. It feels dangerous, in a way. Like he’s taking a risk just by being his friend after coming out as gay. He was sure he’d scare Eddie off any second now, he’d cross the invisible line and Eddie would leave him. 

Richie knows himself well enough to know that a large percent of the words he speaks, are in an effort to relieve emotions. He jokes about being gay in an attempt to hide how fucking terrified he’s been since coming out. He jokes about Eddie being annoying because it scares him how much he’s grown to like him. 

He hated himself for falling for a straight man. Maybe he just should’ve stayed in the closet. At least there’d be some form of familiarity to it; a feeling that he knew and had grown comfortable in. 

So he needs to stop letting himself indulge like this; stealing longing glances, gentle touches and daydreams of domesticity. It needs to stop, cold turkey. So when Eddie asked him to join him in the bed, he knew he should’ve declined back then. And yet he agreed, because some part of him wishes it were real.

Wishes Eddie liked Richie, as much as Richie likes Eddie.

Eddie has just left the apartment when Richie receives a text. He was actually about to sit down to get some last-minute writing done, and normally he would let it wait, but something draws him to it. 

It’s fairly cryptic, even for Richie’s standards (and Richie lives with Stanley, so he of all people, would know cryptic when he sees it). 

[8:45AM] UNKNOWN NUMBER: Is this Richie Tozier?

He considers not replying for a minute, it’s probably a scammer. But then he remembers that nothing can happen unless he gives any information out. He might get a fun story out of it!

[8:48AM] YOU: depends, whos asking?

It’s a few minutes as he waits for a reply.

[8:55AM] UNKNOWN NUMBER: I’m looking for Eddie. He’s your agent now, isn’t he?

Richie knows he really should ignore it, but something drives him to type out a response anyway. 

[8:58AM] YOU: he is, who are you?

[9:01AM] UNKNOWN NUMBER: I just wanted to wish him a happy birthday. I tried texting him yesterday but I think he has my number blocked, can you tell him to contact me? :)

[9:03AM] YOU: is this myra

[9:07AM] UNKNOWN NUMBER: I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not doing any harm by wishing him a happy birthday, can you please tell Eddie to contact me?

[9:09AM] YOU: no, fuck off 

[9:11AM] UNKNOWN NUMBER: Your attitude can’t have been a good influence on him, it’s no wonder he’s acting this way now. 

A part of him wants to tell her off; he doesn’t know the details of Eddie’s marriage but for some reason his blood is boiling and his hands are trembling as he clutches his phone like he’s scared he’s gonna drop it. 

Another part of him knows this isn’t his fight, it’s not even a fight that should be had to begin with. 

[9:16AM] YOU: youre literally delusional. im blocking your number now dont ever contact me or eddie ever again

And Richie blocks the number before he can get a reply. 

_ What the fuck.  _

He didn’t even know his number was  _ this _ publicly available (he should probably do something about that). But most importantly, he doesn’t know what to tell Eddie.  _ Should _ he even tell him? Probably not, right? It’d only stress him out more, and God knows Eddie doesn’t need more stress piled onto him. But then again, Eddie has a right to be in the know about things like these. He was married to this woman for years, and if the brief conversation Richie just had with her is any indication of their married years, then… Jesus Christ, Richie feels even more sorry for him now.

\-- 

When Eddie comes home from work, he asks Richie what he’s been up to. Richie can’t bear to lie, so he tells him part of the truth. 

“I got this weird text right after you left.” Richie shrugs.

“Oh? What did it say?” Eddie asks, shrugging off his coat and making his way to the kitchen.

“Ah- Uh, it just said ‘Is this Richie?”. Then it proceeded to just.. I don’t know- Get really weird. The vibes were just rancid. I blocked the number, obviously.” 

Eddie doesn’t seem to get what was so weird about it, but he responds with a: “Weird.” 

And then the topic is dropped, and Richie feels even worse. He hates lying to Eddie, in any capacity. Hates it with his entire being. It’s exactly 4 minutes after that, when he speaks again:

“Sorry Eddie, that was a lie.” He admits. “I  _ did _ get a weird text but-”

Eddie remains quiet, listening.

“It was Myra.”

Eddie’s face immediately drops to an expression of discomfort. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry I just- Didn’t know if I should tell you.”

“Why were you unsure if you should tell me that my ex wife contacted you?”

“I just thought- You know, would you honestly have wanted to know? Would it do more harm than good?”

“Of course I would’ve wanted to know! It’s my ex wife!”

Richie doesn’t know what to say. He feels horrible.

Eddie backtracks immediately. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

For some reason, hearing Eddie apologize hurts more than anything he could’ve ever said in anger.

“No, don’t apologize.” Richie thinks for a moment, pauses, hesitates, and then: “Remember at the lake?”

Eddie blinks. “Yeah? What do you mean?”

“Tell me to fuck off. Do it like at the lake.”

“I don’t want to yell at you.”

“You’re not yelling at  _ me _ .”

Eddie’s expression seems to tell Richie that he knows what he means.

  
“Fuck you.”

“Yes, come on Eds!”

“Fuck you! FUCK YOU!” There’s a grand smile on both their faces and they laugh. Until there are two thumps from above. Eddie’s upstairs neighbour must be tired of putting up with their shit. 

“Sorry!” Eddie yells up and they both go quiet. There’s no response back. They lock eyes and burst out laughing like school children that had just gotten away with sneaking snacks into a movie theatre. 

3

The losers don’t celebrate the holidays together that year. Eddie isn’t upset about the fact, though he would’ve liked to spend it with everyone. Plans don’t always turn out to line up, though, that’s a part of adult life he just has to live with. Everyone except Richie and Eddie are out of state. Patty and Stan with Patty’s family, Mike and Bill back home in Maine and Bev and Ben are in Hawaii until the 27th. 

Everyone seems to be having a grand time. Proven by the many pictures sent in the group chat (Most of them are pictures of sunsets). One in particular stands out, when late on the 24th, a blurry picture of Bill and Mike asleep on the couch is sent with the caption: _ ‘Gays stay winning’. _ There’s confusion over the picture to begin with, before another one is sent: It’s Georgie doing a peace sign, in a selfie next to Bill and Mike (still asleep on the couch). 

The picture and caption earn a chuckle out of Richie and Eddie, who are currently half-watching Scream while eating pizza. They’re both on their second glass of champagne (Eddie insisted on getting them something nice. They would not be drinking bud light on Christmas Eve!).

“I fucking love Georgie, he’s hysterical.”

“Isn’t hysterical supposed to be a negatively loaded word?”

“Not with Georgie, no. That kid is going places. I can’t wait for when you finally get to meet him. He’s like- 18 by now, I think. But not one of those uncool 18 year olds that vapes; Georgie is cooler than me.”

“As if that's a hard thing to achieve.” 

“Hey! You’re just jealous.” Richie huffs and turns his attention back on the movie for a second or two. “When we were kids, we weren’t allowed to celebrate holidays with each other. For obvious reasons: We were like 12.” Richie explains. “But we always made a point to meet up on the 25th around noon in our clubhouse-”

“Of course you had a clubhouse” Eddie interrupts. 

“We met up in our clubhouse, and we’d give each other presents. Granted we were 12, so we didn’t have a lot of money. Instead we’d give each other the presents we got that we didn’t like.” Richie explains. “Most of the time it was just socks being exchanged, but man what a weird thing to do.”

“Granted, you were 12.”

“Granted, we were 12.” Richie repeats. “We did that for a few years until Bev moved away from Derry. And looking back at it, giving away presents you didn’t like is probably really shitty but hey- It was our thing. What about you, Eds?”

“I never really did anything for Christmas, just you know the usual. Had dinner and went to sleep. Woke up, and went to church.”

“I’m not assuming that was your favorite holiday tradition.”

“I don’t have any traditions, I think. I just used to spend it with my mom or Myra’s family.”

“And I’m not assuming it was a jolly time.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I just kind of went along with it all, I think. They weren’t mean to me, they were just.. Really racist and homophobic. Would always ask when we were giving them grandkids, too.”

“Jesus. Sounds like a blast.”

“It’s my own fault, too, that’s the worst part.” Eddie glances past Richie, out the window.

“I mean technically it takes two to have kids, so yeah, in a way it is your fault but man did you dodge a bullet-”

“No, not about the grandkids.” 

“Oh.”

“It’s my own fault I ended up like this. I stayed with Myra even though I hated every second I did rational thinking about her. My entire life, I just went along with everything. I’ve grown so used to finding comfort in sorrow and pain and anger. Any other type of comfort feels… alien to me- like I don't deserve it. I put up with her, I stayed in it. It’s my own fault. I made my bed, now I can die in it.”

“Eddie, I mean this in the most loving way possible. Shut the fuck up, you are not at fault for how Myra treated you-”

“I am, though, I stayed in it. Some part of me knew what was happening and I just let her.”

“Eddie..”

Eddie gets up from the couch, hesitates for a moment and then: “I’ll be back in a second.”

“Are you going to the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Why?” 

“Because there’s been a habit of finding you in bathrooms in tears.” Richie admits with a shrug. Eddie supposes he’s right, so he lets out a chuckle.

“I mean.. Yeah. Sometimes I just have to- You know, look at myself for a minute.”

“Do I get to look at you, too?”

“I mean- I guess.”

“Jackpot.”

The two laugh quietly and walk to the cramped bathroom. Richie crawls into the bathtub, practically lying down. Eddie splashes water in his face, taking a moment to look at his reflection. He’s okay.

He’s still here, and he’s breathing and he’s alive and he’s alright.

“This is kind of like a high school house party, don’t you think? Lying in a bathtub, half-drunk.”

“Never been to one.”

“I would say you missed out, but really, I think you dodged a bullet.”

“Are they that bad?”

“One time Bill threw up in some poor guys shoes as he was heading home. I was staying later than him and the guy just stuck his foot in there. He barely noticed. Not to mention the time Stanley and I just threw a bunch of china against a wall.”

“Jesus..! Why would you do that?”

“Because Bev said that it was one of those shatter-proof kinds of china. Obviously they weren’t.”

Eddie lets out a laugh.

“One time, we were at this party hosted by the son of one of the teachers. Real asshole. Mr. Mcnamara.” Richie continues.

“I had him in chemistry. He was.. Something.” 

“I know right! Anyway, we all decided to show up to the party and trash the place. Someone broke their pool table, I think someone took a shit on one of the computers and then Stanley just stole a bunch of antique photos. I have no idea why. Anyway, it was a blast.”

“I honestly have no idea what to say.” 

“Don’t say anything. Just savour the information.”

Eddie blinks and waits a moment before he climbs into the tub. There’s barely enough space for both of them, but they manage. Neither of them have any idea what they’re doing, but it feels familiar. 

“Are you ready for New Years at Bev and Ben’s place?” Eddie asks. 

“What do you mean ‘ready’? I mean eventually I’ll get ready but I’m not changing into my fancy clothes a week before the party.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean. Besides, your idea of fancy clothes is that stupid pink and orange hawaii shirt.”

“You’re literally wearing a polo right now.”

“They’re comfortable!” 

“You’re sounding like a 40 year old. Is your back OK?”

“Oh my god, I will kill you.” Eddie playfully kicks out after Richie, gently hitting him on the shoulder.

“Try.” Richie reaches his hand up for the faucet and Eddie’s heart stops. 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Richie dares, and turns on the water. Eddie shrieks and hurries out of the tub but it’s too late. He curses himself for having high water pressure, because his polo shirt and hair are already drenched. Richie stays in the tub, letting himself succumb to the water. 

“You asshole! Do you even have a change of clothes!?” Eddie yells, searching his cabinets for a towel. 

Richie’s expression falls to the floor. It’s obvious he doesn’t have a change of clothes.

Eddie can’t help but revel in his small victory.

\--

They’re all pretty buzzed by 11pm. Dinner is long over but they’re still at the table and nobody has bothered to take out the plates yet. Eddie and Patty are the only people still sober.

New years eve isn’t usually a thing Eddie likes celebrating. He never made a big deal out of it, he was too scared to go near fireworks, anyway so he mostly just stayed inside. 

Now that he thinks of it, Eddie doesn’t like celebrating many things, his birthday, Christmas or new years. Big parties, light and colors aren’t for him. They don’t suit him the way they suit other people. He’s gotten better at being alone lately. He doesn’t know how, and he doesn’t want to be too proud of himself in case it doesn’t last. 

One thing Eddie likes is his family. Not his mother, not Myra. Eddie loves his dad, he hasn’t thought about him much, he doesn’t talk about him much, and sometimes he genuinely forgets he used to have a dad. But sometimes he misses him, he’ll rewatch old home videos, he’ll hear a voice he’s long forgotten, and he’ll cry like he’s never cried before. He doesn’t know if it’s freeing to cry about something that happened 20 years ago, but he does it nonetheless. It really never is going to get easier. 

It’s not losing a father that hurts, it’s the ambiguity that’s left. He wonders if his dad would be proud of him. He might not have been. Eddie doesn’t want to think about it too much, in fear of the genuine answer. He doesn’t remember a lot about Frank Kaspbrak, but he remembers enough to know that he misses him.

Eddie loves his family. He loves the losers. He used to think that some people were just meant to be alone, and he’d thought he was that way. He convinced himself he was alone, but not lonely, and now he’s realized they were pretty lies. It doesn’t have to be that way, though- not anymore. 

“Eddie!” Mike’s voice drags him out of his train of thought. “You okay buddy?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just dozed off I guess.”

“Try not to fall asleep before midnight man, you don’t want to sleep through the new year.” Bev shakes Eddie’s shoulders roughly, trying to wake him.

“Leave him alone Bev! He just needs some blood in his alcohol-stream.”

“What?” Eddie blinks. 

“Do you get it? It’s like- blood in your alcohol-stream.”

“I get it.”

“Because usually it’s alcohol in your bloodstream-”

“You’re hilarious, Richie.” Stanley butts in, deadpan as always. 

“Thanks Stan, I love you.” Richie says, not catching the sarcasm in Stanley's voice. 

“Love you too.” Stan responds, 

“Anyway, I don’t need a drink, I’m fine with being designated driver, really-” Eddie explains and looks to Patty for confirmation from the other person not drinking tonight. She sends him a nod. Taking on the role of being the one to drive home fit Eddie really well. Not because he particularly wanted to drive a bunch of drunk toddlers home, but because he couldn’t drink anyway. 

Amber prescribed him Zoloft two weeks ago. Even if he’s spent most of his life taking over-the-counter medicine for anything under the sun, he felt.. ashamed to be needing antidepressants. He waited 10 days after picking it up before he started taking them. He didn’t know what he expected; the change in his mood isn’t drastic. It’s just.. sort of easier now that he knows there’s bound to be a change. Things will get better. Eventually.

Amber said the first month might be weird because his body would be getting used to taking it. Eddie won’t lie to himself, he’s scared. He read up on the side effects, which was probably a mistake. 

But he’ll be fine, if everything goes to shit, he can stop taking them. He has that power. He chooses when and where, and he thinks that the chance of him feeling better is worth the risk.

“I know Eddie is driving Richie home but, Patty, why are you also designated driver? Surely Eddie can drop you off, too” Ben says. 

“Oh I’m not driving-” Patty responds.

“Oh yeah, we’re staying the night.” Stan clarifies. 

“Why aren’t you drinking then?” Mike asks.

Richie has to hide his laughter behind his hand. 

“What, Rich?” Bev blinks.

“No- nothing, not my place to say.” Richie waves his hand to dismiss the question.

“To say what?” Eddie eventually says, and the table goes quiet as full attention is on Stan and Patty.

“Oh my god, no way.” Bev exclaims in pure excitement, having seemingly pieced it together. Eddie has no idea what’s going on, and it seems like Bill and Mike don’t either. 

“Oh my god!” Ben’s eyes are practically lit up with joy.

“I guess now is as good a time as any.” Stan shrugs and takes a sip of his glass.

“We’re expecting.” Patty clarifies. 

“Expecting what?”

“A fuckin’ baby! Thank God you two finally said it, I wasn’t sure I could keep it a secret any longer.” Richie says.

“You knew already?!” Bev speaks with betrayal in her voice.

“We share a roof, of course he knew.” Stan shrugs again. 

“Oh my gosh, congrats! That’s amazing!” 

Eddie doesn’t quite know what to say. He watches as Bev gets up from her seat and gestures for Richie to take her seat instead. “How far along are you?” Bev sits down next to Patty and Richie sits next to Eddie. Their thighs are touching under the table and the contact flusters Eddie. But he doesn’t move. 

The conversation’s full attention is soon enough on Patty and Stan, but Richie addresses Eddie anyway. “Real talk if you want to drink, it’s okay. I can just pay for an uber home.”

“Oh..! No, it’s alright. I can’t drink on medication anyway.” 

_ Fuck.  _

_ Please ignore it. Please ignore it. Please ignore it. Please ignore it. Please ignore it. _

“Oh, painkillers? Do you have a headache? Should we turn down the music?”

“No it’s fine.” Eddie pauses. He trusts Richie, doesn’t he?

He does.

“It’s not painkillers, though. Antidepressants.” He clarifies. 

“Damn.” Richie laughs awkwardly. “That was stupid of me to ask, then.”

“No, no, you’re fine.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck. “I’m officially sick in the head.” He attempts to lighten the mood, but Richie doesn’t seem to appreciate his self-deprecating humor.

“Nah, I don’t think you are.” Richie says, voice uncharacteristically genuine. “Anyway, are you coming outside to light some fireworks?” 

“I’m good here.” Eddie says. “If I know you correctly you’ll end up losing a limb, I wouldn’t take that risk if I were you.”

“Oh come on! The rockets I’ve bought are mostly legal, it’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t know why, but Eddie agrees with a: “Ten minutes, and then I’m going back inside.” 

It’s 10 minutes to midnight and they’re all outside. Richie is fixing his aforementioned “mostly legal” rockets and everyone is at least 60 feet from him, watching intently as they all wait for the inevitable happening and Richie blowing his own fingers off. Thankfully, Richie loses not a single body part to the rocket, and instead they watch as the bespectacled man runs for his life away from the fireworks and back to his group of friends. He barely makes it in time to watch the rocket as it takes off;, painting the night sky with vivid colors and sparks. Eddie thinks that it’s beautiful. 

Ben fixes the following fireworks, one more rocket and a battery and soon enough it’s a minute till midnight. They’re all lighting their sparklers, getting ready to say hello to a new year of life. 

Eddie thinks that it used to feel grander than this. Like it was a much bigger deal. At least he assumes that it used to feel like that, because he doesn’t quite remember. He was never allowed near fireworks, he always had to watch from the window as the kids of the cul-de-sac got to light up the night sky. 

Eddie is staring at his sparkler as he watches it burn away like a dying star. Tragically beautiful in a way. It gives its life for momentary enjoyment, soon to be forgotten about and tossed aside. Or maybe Eddie is reading too much into it.

He barely registers as the losers all excitedly start counting down, Mike taking the lead as he watches the countdown on his phone. 

_ TEN _

Eddie still doesn’t know what his new year's resolution is.

_ SEVEN. _

Should he even have one? Aren’t they kind of stupid, anyway?

_ FIVE _

None of the other losers mentioned having new years resolutions. He’s probably fine without one.

_ THREE _

Eddie locks eyes with Richie. Richie sends Eddie a smile and waves his sparkler at him.

_ TWO _

The two lean in closer, noses just barely touching. They both know what’s bound to happen.

_ ONE _ .

It would be so easy to lean in. To just take the last step and seal the kiss. Eddie wants to do it for the same reason people smile when they’re happy, the same reason messages in bottles always drift back to shore, and the same reason the sun rises every morning. It’s natural. Meant to happen. Inevitable. 

_ HAPPY NEW YEAR _

But he can’t.

Instead he excuses himself to go back inside, mumbling something about not wanting to be outside without proper safety gear. He hands his still-lit sparkler to Richie and goes back inside. 

And Richie.

  
  
  


Richie doesn’t follow him.

It hurts a bit, as Eddie watches through the window as the other losers kiss and hug. He watches Richie as he watches the sky light up with colors too beautiful to belong in this dull world. Eddie couldn’t care less about the fireworks, only about Richie and how his expression seems to loosen into a sombre smile as he watches the night sky peacefully.

Eddie thinks he might love Richie, and in a different way than he loves the losers. For once he doesn’t stop himself from thinking about it. He lets himself live without guilt. Just for the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all i do is write trauma repression, john mulaney references, eat hot chip and lie
> 
> please please leave a comment!


	10. gonna take some time to do the things we never had

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. i suppose we're in the middle of a global pandemic and also a revolution,   
> i wrote this back in march before shit went sideways. ie: i wrote this when i still cared about IT, ive left the fandom long ago. sorry to end it so abruptly, i had planned more for the final chapter but alas i feel bad leaving it unfinished when i had this bit written out already. i edited it so it'd work as an short bow wrapped around this story- who knows i might come back and finish it later. but for now its considered finished.
> 
> stay safe everyone , remember to social distance when you can and remember that black lives fucking matter <3

1

It’s the first of January and the sun is blinding Eddie as he wakes up with a heavy heart and a surprising lack of emotional hangover. Except for his plants and a deafening silence from the streets, he feels completely alone- as everyone is inside their homes, tending to last night's mistakes by indulging themselves in greasy food and over-the-counter painkillers. It’s a new year and he supposes it can only get better or worse from now on. 

He spends an hour or so watering his plants, slowly getting up and ready for the day. It’s a routine like my other, routines he’s learned that he quite likes having. He’s taken to washing his face again. He used to do it twice a day a few years ago, when his energy was grander and he had fewer wrinkles. Looking at himself in the mirror and not recognizing himself was terrifying, even more so when he was still only entering his 20’s. 

Eddie has become blind to his own appearance by now. It’s not that he doesn’t recognize himself anymore, he just feels more coherent. He’s whole. And he’s gone so long without feeling whole that he’ll take whatever he can get. He deserves it. 

He sends his reflection a smile, and his reflection smiles back at him. 

Eddie Kaspbrak has never been a protagonist in his life. He’s always been a watcher, someone who idly stands on the sidelines, waiting for his life to push him further. But for once he decides when he moves on further. Last night was proof of that. 

The closeness and comfort he felt with Richie had just grown stronger as of late. And without any guilt swallowing him whole, it was almost unbearable. But surely something must’ve changed between the two. He isn’t sure what it is, but they can’t go back to the way they were before. He doesn’t want to either. 

He doesn’t know if he wants to call it love, because love can be so many things. It’s more as if Richie gives him a new part of himself every time they talk- as if Eddie discovers himself through the other. The feeling wells up in his stomach and it grows every day. He feels like the puzzle piece that was missing was finally found, and even if the full picture isn’t nowhere near complete, at least he  _ can _ finish it now. 

The more he thinks about it, the more he’s sure it might be love.

2

A few miles away, Richie is eating a greasy, wonderful egg-sandwich and downing a coke as he browses through his camera roll, piecing together the previous night. He didn’t get shitfaced by any means, and he’s proud of himself for that, but it’s always fun to experience things again through sober eyes. There are the obligatory food-pictures taken before dinner, a few selfies with Mike and a video of Stanley staring into nothingness with a vacant expression while ‘Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom!’ by Vengaboys play in the background. Richie thinks it’s the funniest video he’s seen in at least 10 hours.

And then there’s a picture of Eddie. Caught off guard by the sudden camera shoved in his face, yet he’s smiling softly. Richie stares at the picture longer than he cares to admit before scrolling through the rest of the pictures. 

He feels scared to call Eddie his best friend, for a multitude of reasons. Mainly being the fear that it’s not reciprocated. He feels stupid for being worried about platonic feelings not being returned when there are much grander feelings at play between them. He’s long since accepted the fact that he is completely and utterly in love with Eddie Kaspbrak. 

He doesn’t know if anyone else knows, he’s tried to be subtle about it but he also knows that the losers have brains and can probably put two and two together. 

This is proven when Stanley approaches him later that day, having brought home takeaway for them to eat for dinner. Richie hasn’t moved from the couch at all and gratefully accepts the disgustingly delicious Wendy’s baconator as Stan hands it to him.

“You are an actual angel Stan, did you know that?” Richie says absentmindedly.

“And you’re an idiot.” Stanley responds casually as he sits down on the couch next to Richie. 

  
“I know, but is there a reason for you telling me this?” Richie raises his brows and adjusts his glasses.

“I have eyes, you know. We all do. What happened between you and Eddie last night?”

Richie’s heart stops beating. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play daft, do you think we’re stupid? I might lose it soon if you guys don’t talk together.”

“Talk about what?”

“Richie. If you love him, you need to say it.”

“Ah.”

There’s a tense silence.

“I- Is it that obvious?” Richie asks, turning his gaze away.

“Yes.” 

“Listen, Stan I don’t know if it’s  _ love _ .” Richie knows it’s definitely love. “I just, really like him and being around him and talking to him. I don’t wanna fuck that up in case he doesn’t feel the same.”

“Rich, I’m only going to say this once. Love can be painful, it can also be incredible. But it has to be said out loud. It can’t fit in your chest any longer, Richie. It’s gonna boil over and it’s gonna spill out eventually. That’s the way these things work.”

Richie feels awkward eating a burger while Stanley is being genuine, so he puts it down and turns his full attention back to the other.

“We’ve all seen the way you look at each other.” Stanley continues.

“Like what?”

“Like he’s the entire world to you. It’s actually kind of weird to see you wear your feelings so boldly on your sleeve and the both of you being oblivious to it all.”

“Your new year's resolution was to become poetic, huh?” Richie attempts to lighten the mood.

“I’ve always been poetic, Richie. You just haven’t noticed.” Stan smiles and gets up from the couch. “Enjoy your burger.”

3

It’s the second of January and Eddie is at Mike and Bill’s apartment. They’re drinking tea and talking about nothing in particular; it’s never hard to keep a conversation going with Mike and Bill. Eddie is sitting in an awkward spot where the sun blinds him everytime he shifts in place, so he sits still, tense and content. 

“So, how are things with Richie?” Mike eventually asks. “Any news?”

“News? What would there be news about?” Eddie raises a brow. 

Mike and Bill share eye contact, like parents at a parent-teacher conference after being told their child was misbehaving. 

“Just.. you know, in general.” Bill comments, trying to change the subject. 

“Eddie, I’m going to say something, and you can forget it afterwards if you want.” Mike starts. “My whole life I’ve been an outsider, and it’s sucked. Never feeling like you belong anywhere and just.. Drifting from place to place without a purpose. It’s horrid. Having somewhere or someone to keep you grounded is nice, yes. But I’ve been so accustomed to never having anywhere to call home that I still feel like this all could just.. disappear at any time.”

Eddie nods. 

“And then again- who’s to say if it will disappear? Not me. But having loved and lost is better than never having loved at all.” Mike takes a sip of his cup of tea. “On a completely unrelated note, I think you should talk to Richie soon.”

Eddie blinks. 

\--

It’s the third of January when Eddie texts Richie. The decision is made after much contemplation and two minor breakdowns- but who’s counting? 

[10:23PM] YOU: Do you want to go for a walk?

[10:29PM] Rich: like right now? i get off in like half an hour can it wait til then

[10:30PM] YOU: Thats fine, I’ll pick you up!

[10:34PM] Rich: yessir

Eddie arrives at Richie’s place of work five minutes before his shift ends, he sits down at the bar and watches Richie fumble around trying to get everything done before he leaves. They don’t talk, but there’s an air around them, like in movies right before the third act begins. Something is about to happen. They both know it. 

Eventually Richie appears from the kitchen, wearing his leather jacket on top of his work uniform and holding a container of french fries. He waves goodbye to his co-workers and the two walk out together. 

“Where are we headin’ Eds?” Richie eventually asks after five minutes of walking.

“I have no idea, just wanted to catch some fresh air.” Eddie shrugs.

“Something on your mind or are we just going to walk in silence?” 

“Some things are on my mind, yes, not all are important.” Eddie reaches over and grabs a french fry off of Richie. Richie allows it without protest. 

They walk for another minute or so before Richie exclaims a loud: “Holy shit!” Alerting the entire sidewalk to his presence. 

“What?”

“That’s that bench.” He says, pointing to  _ a _ bench.

“It’s a bench.” Eddie states.

“It’s the one we sat on all those months ago, do you remember?”

“How do  _ you _ remember?”

“I’m autistic, Eddie, if I can’t remember useless details about everything, who would I be?”

“Touché.” 

The two sit down on the bench and Eddie tries his hardest to figure out what words to say. He promised himself he would talk to Richie; be honest with him. And yet, here he is: 27 years old, and feeling like a fucking teenager again. 

It’s hard; it’s really really hard to tell someone how you feel. But everyone can feel that the wind has changed between Richie and him, and it’s going to keep being this way until either of them do something. 

“Are we friends, Richie?”

“Obviously we’re friends, what kind of question is that?”

“And.. are you okay with being friends?” Eddie avoids eye contact like it was the plague.

“What do you mean?”

“I think- It’s like-” Eddie pauses. “It’s like something has changed between us, Richie, I don’t know what it is but-”  _ Eddie knows what it is.  _ “There aren’t many words to say yet I feel like when we do talk, nothing comes of it. It’s like a circle. Are you scared of me? Of who I am? I’m not a normal person by any means. There are just so many feelings in my chest everytime I think about us, but that’s stupid, right?”

Richie thinks for a moment, pursing his lips. “You aren’t a normal person by any means, no, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.” He pauses. “I think the term ‘normal’ is coined by the government in order to categorize people more easily, and then not feel bad when they leave minorities to their own devices.” He shrugs. “Just a thought, though.”

“Since when have you been politically interested?” Eddie chuckles.

“Always been, baby, running for senator next term.”

“I would like to see it.”

“Also, you’re not stupid; I know how you feel. Sometimes it’s just hard to say what you mean without exposing yourself too much, you know?” Richie averts his gaze to the ground. “I hate being serious like this, it’s so.. You know.” 

“I know.”

Richie looks back at Eddie and Eddie looks back at Richie.

Richie is obviously thinking hard about something. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“Can I kiss you?”

The two go quiet. 

“I-” Eddie starts. “Are you joking?” 

“No I mean-” Richie backtracks. “I think I really like you Eddie but saying these things are so hard, I thought this was the better alternative. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t assume that I’m uncomfortable.” Eddie replies. “For what it’s worth, yes you can kiss me.” He speaks without thinking.

“Alright well. Then I’m going to do it.”

“Yeah.”

“Mhmm.” Richie hesitates and Eddie decides it’s now.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ stupid.” He puts his hands on Richie’s shoulders and leans in. It feels natural. 

The two share a kiss that makes it feel like they’ve known each other longer than they actually have. Eddie can feel the January wind hitting the side of his face harshly.

Richie doesn’t taste like smoke or ash, not like the media had led him to believe. In a way, it’s underwhelming. Kissing Richie just feels like… kissing Richie. And yet, it feels like the first time he heard Bohemian Rhapsody, or the first snowfall he ever got to witness. They don’t leave much distance between them after the kiss ends. Their noses are still touching and both of them are quiet. 

“Hi.” Eddie says, quietly.

“Hi.” Richie responds.

They’re literally only greeting each other, but Eddie feels like it conveys every single feeling he’s ever had. 

“So, what now?” 

“I don’t know. Let’s just enjoy this for now.”

Eddie supposes he’s right. Some days might still be rough, and some parts of him might not change- but he cant be bothered to worry about it when the fresh wind feels incredible. 

end


End file.
